A Mighty Pain To Love It Is
by mhathairamhain
Summary: Robbie sat down on the couch and stared at the spot where James had been sitting. He raised his hand to his lips where James had kissed him; his hands shook. What the hell had just happened? When James, a little drunk and tired, kisses an unsuspecting Robbie, the fall out is not what either expected. Note: This is NOT slash. It's about hard reality. It's not quite a fairy tale.
1. A Mighty Pain To Love It Is

As Robbie cleared the empty bottles off the bench, he looked across at James, half asleep on the couch. It was never the wisest move to have a heavy night in the middle of the week, not that that had been their intention when they'd headed back to Robbie's, but what was done, was done. It was now after midnight and he didn't have the heart to send James off in a taxi. He walked up behind the couch, rested his hands on James's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, prompting James to tip his head back to look up at him.

"I s'pose I should go," James mumbled and attempted to stand. When Robbie pressed him back into the couch he didn't protest.

Robbie sat back down next to James. "Why don't you stay, sleep on the couch? I can drop you at yours in the morning."

James gave Robbie one of his rare, contented smiles and nodded.

As Robbie reached across to pick up the telly remote James leant in and, quickly and softly cupping Robbie's cheek in his palm, pressed a firm kiss to his lips.

Robbie stilled and his eyes widened. He laid a hand on James's chest and slowly but firmly pressed James back so he could see his face. James placed his hand over Robbie's where it lay on his chest and was startled as Robbie pulled it away roughly and scooted back to the far end of the couch.

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James's body went rigid as he absorbed Robbie's face and posture. Suddenly sober, James swallowed hard to avoid being sick.

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They stared at each other, separated by a single cushion that might as well have been a chasm. Robbie stood stiffly and walked back to the kitchen.

Speaking slowly to control his voice, he said quietly, "I think, perhaps, it _would_ be better if you went home, James." He called for a taxi.

Robbie stayed in the kitchen. He leant against the bench with his arms folded tightly across his chest. James sat perched on the edge of the couch, arms crossed over his stomach as one leg bounced nervously. He stared at the coffee table. Neither spoke. When the taxi arrived James almost fell forward off the couch and bolted from the flat.

Robbie sat down on the couch and stared at the spot where James had been sitting. He raised his hand to his lips where James had kissed him; his hands shook. What the hell had just happened?

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Robbie was still sitting, staring at the couch, at 3am, his thoughts a jumble.

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* * *

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James's car wasn't in its usual spot when Robbie arrived at the station that morning. Nevertheless, he hesitated before approaching his – their – office. As he stepped through the doorway he took a sharp second look the nameplates, which were now a good five inches apart. He was certain they were touching the last time he paid any notice. He felt ragged. He'd finally gone to bed at four, though sleep eluded him; he'd stared at the ceiling until his alarm went off.

Robbie went back over the options his confused mind had pulled together before dawn. Simplest thing was to blame the beer and tiredness and call it a misunderstanding; a simple apology on both sides and they could put it behind them. James's non-appearance told Robbie that idea had probably been considered and discarded by James. The kiss could merely have been poor judgement, and that too could be put down to the alcohol. The other possibility was that James had wanted to kiss Robbie, perhaps for some time, and the action was deliberate.

Robbie covered his face with both hands and leant his elbows on the desk. He once again concentrated to recall James's face and body language after 'it'. He'd been upset, shaken – terrified – he hadn't said a word, hadn't tried. _Bloody hell. _ It _had_ been a choice, obviously fuelled by Dutch courage, but still a deliberate a choice James had made. James was the least impulsive man Robbie knew; he had to have been thinking about 'that' for some time. _Bloody buggering hell._

A light knock at the door broke through his thoughts. Laura.

"I hope James's absence doesn't mean you've finally choked him for his cheek, he's been in fine form..." She registered his expression and pallor. "Robbie? What is it? What's happened? Is James.."

"Lewis, my office. Now." As suddenly as she was there, Innocent was gone.

Laura stared after her. Robbie wearily pushed his chair back. Either James had contacted her or the office grapevine was working at top speed this morning. Or maybe it was completely unrelated. He groaned tiredly – _fat chance of that_.

"Robbie?" He grimaced at the concern in Laura's voice and face.

"Sorry, Laura, not just now, maybe later." He sighed and gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze as he passed her. "If I can figure it out meself."

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"James has requested a week's leave for _urgent private business_. Were you aware of this?" She was watching him carefully.

Relief flooded through Robbie at the realisation that James hadn't over-reacted – _yet_, he cautioned himself – and he almost fell into the chair in front of Innocent's desk. She frowned, perplexed and curious. "Lewis?"

"I was expecting – I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting," he sighed.

"Would you care to elaborate, Inspector?"

For a moment Robbie was angry at James, furious at having to cover for him again. But that was unfair. Yes, James had done some rash and foolish things in the past; however, in his defence, most had been triggered by an external event or person and complicated by James's intense privacy. What was the tipping point last night? Robbie was starting to wonder if he wasn't in some way partly responsible; had he said or done something that encouraged James to…?

Robbie weighed his words carefully. "We had a 'disagreement' last night. James... said something I suspect he deeply regrets this morning."

Innocent exhaled slowly to give herself a moment to think. "You'll have to give me more than that, Lewis."

Robbie rubbed his hand roughly over his mouth and chin. "I can't Ma'am, not until I can talk to James." He didn't need to add 'if he's willing to talk to me'. "I don't fully understand myself."

Innocent pressed her lips together, her eyes sending a warning. "Was there alcohol involved in this 'disagreement'?" Robbie's body language gave her the answer and he wisely voiced no defence.

Innocent blinked slowly and fixed Robbie with a stare. "There've been rumblings amongst the other teams that I allow you and Hathaway too much rope. And they're right." She raised a hand to stall Robbie. "Only because you're one of my best teams. But I can't continue to do so; I'll approve James' request this time. I'll let you know who to hand your case to – you're on leave as at close of business today as well."

Robbie jerked up in the chair. "But, Ma'am..."

"No buts, Lewis. It's fairly quiet, we have a full complement and you're not handing over a murder; I expect you and James to sort out whatever it is within the week. I'll see both of you back in this office next Thursday morning. No excuses, no extensions. Understood?"

"Ma'am." _Well that couldn't have gone much worse._

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At the end of the day Robbie counted six unanswered texts, four messages left on James's mobile, and three unanswered emails. Clearly James did _not_ want to talk to Robbie; he _had _spoken to Innocent when she'd called to confirm his leave, and also to Julie when she needed him to clarify some notes on the case. Robbie was angry. How dare James put him in this position then ignore him like this? There were two of them on the couch last night.

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,

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That night on his way home, Robbie stopped his car outside James's flat. He could see James pacing behind the curtains. Robbie tried calling him again, and watched with sadness as the silhouette looked at the phone then cancelled the call.

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* * *

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Robbie fell into an exhausted sleep on his couch, eventually waking mid-morning. A soft thud alerted him to his mobile falling out to his hand. He fumbled around until he found it, and squinted blearily at the screen; no missed calls but two texts, both from Laura:

Received 9:00am: /Where are you? Why does Laxton have the Kingston case? Call me!/

Received 10:43am: /Talked to Jean. What's happened?/

Robbie groaned and deleted both messages.

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Over the remainder of the day Robbie ignored two more texts from Laura, left three messages on James's phone and sent one text.

/Just let me know you're ok. Please./

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It was just after seven when Robbie threw open the door. He tried and failed not to look frustrated when it was Laura.

"Good evening, Robbie. Good evening, Laura," she prompted.

"Sorry. I was... Hello."

She stayed in the hallway. "You were hoping it was James." Robbie stayed silent. Laura huffed. "Sorry if I'm a disappointment."

"Laura, don't, please." Robbie turned his head away from her searching eyes.

Laura was as observant, perhaps more so, than any detective, and what she saw saddened her: blood-shot, dark-circled eyes; reddened patches on his face and neck where he'd been repeatedly rubbing with his hands; dishevelled hair; stooped posture; flat voice.

"Robbie, what's happened?" She reached up to touch his cheek, recoiling as he jerked away from her hand. "It's James, isn't it? Jean told me – no, I _tricked her_ into telling me – about his leave. Is he okay, Robbie?" She was aghast when he shrugged his shoulders. "_Haven't you spoken to him?_ Robbie!"

"He's not talking to me!" Robbie snapped at her; regret immediately washed over his face. "Sorry, Laura." He heaved a painful sigh and slumped against the doorframe. "I've tried calling, he won't answer, and I'm not going round and to knock on his door and b… Laura, look... I'm sorry; I'm not up for company tonight. I just need to be..." He couldn't - or wouldn't - meet her gaze.

She was reluctant to leave Robbie like this but knew it was pointless to argue. "Right. You know you can call me? Anytime."

Her heart ached as his shoulders drooped a little more. "Aye, I know. Good night, Laura."

She stood there as Robbie slowly closed the door on her.

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"James!" Laura was beyond angry, she was scared. His car was there, the lights were on and she could hear music – she knew he was home but he wasn't answering the door. "James Hathaway, if you don't open the door I'm calling an ambulance, because if you don't need one right now, you damn well will when they get here."

The click of the lock being released answered her and the door drifted open. She saw James's shadow moving down the hall and stepped inside.

James slumped in a corner between the kitchen cabinet and the wall. Every inch of his body and face warned her to stay back. Laura stood in the entry to the kitchen and studied him. _For God's sake, he looked worse than Robbie. Was that even possible?_ There would be no discussion here, no confessions or admissions. But Laura couldn't just leave this here, not now that she'd seen them both.

"James..." His stare dared her to continue; she called his bluff. "I don't know what happened; Jean doesn't know and Robbie won't tell me – and quite frankly, with the way it's affecting_ both_ of you I'm not sure I want the details." James looked at her sharply. _Dear God, he has no idea._ "Robbie's hurting, James – deeply – and he's worried about you. Damn it, look at you, you're a mess." She pleaded with James. "Only you and Robbie know what's gone on, which means only you and Robbie can sort this out. James, please, you have to talk to him; for both your sakes."

James's shoulders sagged a little, but he said nothing, his face impassive. Laura watched for a few minutes, the silence between them so complete she could hear the tick of his watch.

"I'll see myself out then," she said quietly and left.

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James didn't move until he heard the solid clunk of the door closing, then he slowly slid down the wall as his legs folded beneath him. Curled in the corner he wept silently.

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* * *

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On Friday, Laura was gently persistent. Over the course of the day she called Robbie twice, and was relieved when he answered both times. She didn't try to argue with or cajole him, merely asking how he was, had he something to eat/drink, did he want to go for coffee/lunch, had he tried to contact James?

"Fine." "Yes." "No." "Not today." Each time.

She sighed as she hung up and tried calling James again. Three times she tried and three times he rejected the call. She thought about sending a text but knew he could, and probably would, simple delete it. Laura reasoned she would just have to turn up on his doorstep again. James didn't like being the centre of attention—she was confident he'd eventually let her in. She just wanted to know he was okay, but would take any opportunity to convince him to talk with Robbie.

.

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Laura was startled when James answered the door immediately and stepped back to let her in.

He opened two beers and they perched at opposite ends of the couch as they fumbled through the unpleasant pleasantries, the conversation awkward and stilted.

"James, you have to call Robbie, or at least answer his calls," Laura blurted out, her worry for him and Robbie spilling over, tossing all plans of a reasoned discussion out of the window. "You'll have to face him next week in front of Innocent, whether you've settled things or not."

"Not if I don't turn up." James' voice was flat. He hunched forward, with one arm wrapped tightly across his stomach and his face blank.

She snapped at him. "James, you can't..." She stopped as James flinched, and took a moment to calm herself. "James, love, please don't run from this. I know it's hard, but once you start running... One day you won't have anywhere left to run."

He glared at her, and for a moment Laura was certain he was going to ask her to leave; then he closed his eyes and nodded. Laura released the breath she was holding and moved up closer to him.

Cautiously she laid a hand on his arm and spoke gently. "You don't have to tell me what happened, unless you want to; I don't need to know, James. Robbie's not said anything either. I know you probably think I'm a nuisance..." She gave wry smile at James's huff. "But I'm worried about you – both of you – and so is Jean, though she's not likely to come out and say it." She waited, studying his face. "Do you have any idea how important you are to Robbie? You know I knew Robbie before…? He changed James, a little part of him closed off and he started to step back from others. You were the first person to truly break through that, James. He trusts you. You're more than his bagman, you're his best friend. You _do_ realise that, don't you?" James nodded, but his eyes revealed his uncertainty.

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James was torn; what Laura said was true, or at least it had been. He wanted to clear the air with Robbie but was petrified at the same time. He'd wept because he'd hurt Robbie and didn't know how to 'make it better', or if he even could. If he were to tell Laura what happened would she have any insight or would she back away too? He was certain Robbie was backing away; James hadn't had a single text or call from him today. _To hell with it! _ What did he have to lose? He'd already decided to request a transfer or resign and let Robbie retire in Oxford with dignity. He wouldn't have to see Laura after that. Did it matter what she knew? Though, more to the point, could he actually get the words out? James released a long slow, shuddering breath.

"It's…Laura...he's not just my Governor, not just my friend," James stumbled. "It's more than that. I... I think... Things went too... I made an assumption and... I've overstepped, expected more from him than I have a right to. The other night – he didn't quite throw me out, but I wouldn't have blamed him if he had."

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Laura was shocked. "James, there has to be an explanation, something you're not seeing. Robbie's one of _the_ fairest people I know – after me, of course." She got the hint of a smile she hoped for. "You probably just caught him off guard, misinterpreted his response." James couldn't speak. In his silence Laura continued carefully. "Had you been drinking, were you tired?" James nodded and Laura gave him a comforting smile. "Well, there you are. Those things affect our judgement, our responses. I've only spoken to Robbie briefly, but... Call him James, talk to him. You shouldn't let this fester between you. I'm confident that at the end of the day Robbie will be flattered that you see him as more than a mate, though he probably won't say it. One word of advice, though." She gave him a cheeky smile. "Don't call him Dad."

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With those four words Laura ripped down the small flag of hope that James had allowed himself to raise. He forced a smile and a small laugh, for her sake, as his heart sank like a stone once again. _You didn't see his face Laura; he'd definitely prefer Dad over Darling_.

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Laura only stayed a few minutes longer; she had seen the physical change in James as the stress of the past couple of days caught up with him. She talked him into lying on his bed rather than the couch, and helped him to his room, for which he murmured his thanks. Before she left, she extracted a promise from him that he would think seriously about calling Robbie, but he wouldn't give her any guarantee. Laura headed home, still puzzling over what James could have possibly done to upset his seemingly unbreakable partnership with Robbie. _After all, it's not as though he would have tried to snog Robbie._ Her eyes widened. _No, that couldn't be it. James may or may not be gay, but Robbie certainly isn't and James is well aware of that. Laura Hobson, stop being foolish_, she scolded herself.

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James lay on the bed staring at the wall. Though he was still tired, further sleep eluded him. He argued in circles with himself. With a sigh of resignation, he sat up and gathered his phone off the bedside table. He scrolled through to Lewis's number and, taking a deep breath, dialled.

He cancelled the call halfway through the second ring and tossed the phone on the bed. He threw himself down on the mattress and dragged the pillow over his head.

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Robbie stared at the missed call. He would wait for James to call again. He knew James – at least he thought he did; if he'd taken that first step, he would go a little further the next time. Laura had called to say she'd seen him and he seemed okay; there were no signs of excessive smoking or drinking, though he looked done in. It was enough for now

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* * *

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It was Sunday morning before James waited for Lewis to answer the call. One, two, three, four rings.

"James, lad?"

James swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in his throat. He'd expected anger, coolness at the very least. Concern and anxiousness weren't even on the list, yet that was all he heard. "Sir."

"You all right, lad? Have you...?"

James hiccupped, and it poured out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ignored you didn't answer your calls or your texts and I deleted the messages you left and the texts and I'm sorry for fucking things up and I don't blame you for hating me I'm not coming in on Thursday I'm going to email..."

"_**James**_**, stop.**" James took a sharp breath, so fast and deep it hurt. "I just want... Are you all right, James?"

"I... er... I'm." James closed his eyes to try and slow his mind and mouth. "I'm sober and I haven't done anything stupid, but as to whether I'm alright..." He faltered, unsure where to go.

"James. I need to talk – _we_ need to talk, before either of us makes any foolish decisions. Please, James." Robbie wasn't pleading, he'd promised himself he wouldn't plead.

"There's nothing _to_ talk..." James mumbled.

"_Stop there_. D'you think you're the only one this has affected?" Robbie had reached the limit of his patience, as worry spilled over into anger, his voice low and cold. "What about me James? D'you think I haven't been thinking about it, tossin' 'n' turning. You hide at home and I'm the one who had to front Innocent. What do think I told her James? Hmm? What? _**Nothing.**_ Because I don't know what's bloody well going on in your head. And I want – _need_ – to know."

James had physically recoiled at Lewis's attack; it happened so rarely that it always shocked him, and it knocked him for six to realise that he didn't even have to be in the same room. He stood trembling, one hand braced against the kitchen bench. "I, ah, I never meant... I never thought..."

Robbie's anger had burnt itself out; he waited for James to continue.

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* * *

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They had agreed to meet in the morning at University Parks, by the Cherwell. Robbie had let James choose the meeting place, somewhere neutral where they could hopefully talk privately and openly.

Robbie arrived early, afraid if he was late James wouldn't wait around. The chill wind and looming clouds had kept many people away and the grounds were surprisingly quiet. As he approached the designated meeting place he saw that James had already arrived. Robbie spotted him easily as he sat on a bench – well, he was more curled up – with his back to Robbie. His ready identification of James simply from the way he sat gave Robbie a jolt. He doubted he would have recognised his own son so easily. It was yet another in a growing list of observations that made it crucial for him and James to talk through what had happened.

Robbie hesitated as he approached the bench. Not for the first time in his adult life, he fervently wished he could turn the clock back. He didn't want to have this conversation, yet knew that without it nothing would be resolved. Things could go right, very wrong, around in circles, or all of the above. He wanted to be hopeful.

"James?"

"Sir."

James rose and turned towards him in a single, graceful movement, and started to walk slowly away from the bench towards the path, his coat wrapped tightly around his lanky frame. He glanced back at Robbie, who followed. They walked in silence, out of step and with enough space between them for a small child, pretending to be an aeroplane, to hurtle through. Both kept their hands stuffed firmly in their pockets. The little conversation they eventually had was awkward and stilted. Robbie followed James to the water's edge where there was a more secluded bench; they sat at opposite ends, staring straight ahead.

James got to the point, though not the one Robbie was hoping to clear up.

"Would you like me to apply for a transfer or would be better for me to resign from the force?"

Robbie swallowed down his gut reaction and responded lightly. "S'pose that depends on whether you want to stay in CID with a new Governor, or you want to try your hand at something different."

James took a deep breath. "But what do _you_ want..."

"James, your career, your professional future is not my decision to make for you." Robbie sighed inwardly. "But since you ask, I'd rather not break up a good team over this. That's gonna happen soon enough when I retire. Though, if it makes it easier for you to stay, I'll bring my retirement forward. Can't see Innocent arguing too much."

Panic rose in James's voice. "She'll want to know why, you'll have to tell her about... I could be up on..."

"Oh for God's sake, man." Robbie was in disbelief. "She _doesn't_ need to know – and do you really think I'd drop you in the shit over one small mistake like that?"

"What if it wasn't a mistake?" James's voice was steady.

Robbie studied James, who was staring at some point in the distance. Robbie held his breath. "Ah, I _had _wondered..." He gulped down his anxiousness. "How long?"

"What?" James's head snapped around and just as quickly flicked forward again.

"How long had you been thinking about it? It wasn't spur-of-the-moment, was it? That's not you." James fidgeted and gnawed at his thumbnail. Robbie took pity on him. "So. It wasn't a new thought; you simply seized the moment?"

James nodded. "It should never have happened, sir, I... I'm not sorry though. At least now I know."

"We still need to talk this through, lad, though heaven knows neither of us are talkers. But I've been turning..."

James interrupted him. "Is it simply because we're both men or that I'm far younger than you? Or both?" Robbie fixed him with a stare. "Sorry, sir."

Robbie exhaled hard. His spoke quietly and with great care. "I've been turning this over and over in me head, talked to Val about it too." He saw James's eyebrows twitch in surprise. "Aye, I talk to Val a lot, helps me find another perspective. Anyway..." Robbie leant forward, his elbows pressing into his thighs. "Is it because we're both men? Not entirely. I've reached the conclusion that's not the most important thing. But it is a huge factor; I'd say I'm strictly heterosexual, never been attracted to men in the past, nor now, so it'd be one hell of a leap for me to even consider it." He studied James out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction. "Is it the age gap? A bit. Twenty odd years, James – that's sizable, whether man or woman. Neither on its own _need_ be an issue – it's about the person, about what you feel, but it's also about who you – who I – am. And who I'm not."

James whispered, "But you do _like_ me?"

"Thing is, James..." Robbie sighed as James's head dropped. "Thing is, if anyone else were to ask me, I'd honestly be able to tell them I love you." Robbie winced inwardly at the look of hope he was about to strike from James's face. "But not the way you want, the way I think you want. And I'm sorry, so, so sorry if I've ever said or done anything that gave you the wrong impression."

James drew himself up and took a steadying breath. "_About the person, about what you feel_ – tell me, please."

Robbie paused to consider his answer. "I see you first and foremost as my friend, James, my closest friend, and only second as me Sergeant. We're a good balance for each other. And, yeah, I do like you as well." He leant backwards, huffing out a great breath as he ordered his thoughts. "I'm not sure where we go from here, James. I still want to spend time with you – I enjoy your company, you're good for me, you've stopped me falling into a well of self-pity many a time; you've saved my life – and not just in the line of duty."

James's jaw dropped as he registered what Robbie was telling him and Robbie gave him time to process before he continued. "I sometimes wonder where I'd be if you hadn't met me at the airport that first day. By just being you, you made me love you, even with all your snark and cheek. I don't love you like I loved Val, or how I love Lyn and Mark. It's different. I'm not sure how to describe it, other than saying that all I want for you is what's best for, what completes you, and I'll do everything I can – within my ability – to see you get that. But physically, I can't do or be anything more to you than I already am. When you kissed me I was shocked, but more than that I didn't... I didn't _feel_ anything. There was no spark, no '_oh, my_' moment. That's not me, James. I'm sorry if I've hurt you but I have to be honest with you. I owe you that much."

"You don't owe me anything, sir, but thank you." James's voice was barely a whisper as he studied the lowering skies.

As the wind picked up it brought with it the first scattered drops of rain. They wouldn't be able to stay much longer but Robbie didn't want them to part at this point. James had said nothing about how he felt or what he wanted. If they were going to have any chance of moving forward both sides had to be heard and acknowledged. Thankfully, James apparently felt the same way.

"Sir, this weather... I, er, come back to mine?" His voice wavered a little. "I need, I'd like a... the drive home will give me a chance to... I can't really chicken out if it's my place." Robbie accepted humbly, and tried not to feel guilty for being relieved they weren't going to his place. For all he'd said, he was grateful he would have the option of leaving if things didn't go well.

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* * *

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Robbie's eyes followed James as he moved around his kitchen, preparing lunch. James had insisted that Robbie relax and do nothing as he was only making soup and sandwiches. Robbie wondered if it was actually because James wanted to maintain some distance for the time being.

They ate in silence, though it wasn't the uncomfortable silence either had anticipated. Their exchange was general; 'safe' would have been the word Robbie used.

James moved the conversation on when he got up to make a fresh pot of tea. "Thank you, sir," he murmured, standing side-on to Robbie. "Laura said... Thank you for not judging me, for not... for not giving up on me. I'm sorry I avoided you. I panicked. I was... ashamed, because I'd compromised you. I saw both our careers shattered because of... And I... I should have known better, known you wouldn't have said anything to Innocent without speaking to me first."

He brought the pot to the table and sat down opposite Robbie. Slowly he raised his head, and was humbled by the kindness in Robbie's eyes. "It won't happen again, sir. I now know where you stand and therefore where I stand. It was the 'what ifs' and the unknowns... 'Tis better to have loved and lost.'" James huffed. "But I haven't exactly lost, _have I?_ So I'm luckier than... I just have – something different to what I'd... dreamed about but that's dreams for you, all about hopes and fears, and I'd definitely have some serious problems if my fears came true so I suppose I should be... and I'll just shut up now."

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Robbie waited until he was sure James had stopped, a little shocked to have learned... learned what exactly? That James dreamt about him? That James had held hopes for a different future with him? "James, you'd be honest with me, right? You'd tell me if you didn't think you'd be comfortable to keep working as a team? I don't want you trying to be someone you're not. I'd like to think we can to stay friends_ and_ partners, but if we can't I'd rather find a way for us to stay friends over working together."

James stared him straight in the eye. "It won't be a problem, sir. My action was... foolish, poor judgement. You've been very tolerant with me, sir, and kind. I appreciate and respect your position, and would like very much to remain your friend and continue as your bagman."

James's words were spoken with conviction, and Robbie had no reason to doubt his sincerity.

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* * *

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They waited in Innocent's outer office. James leant against the wall while Robbie fidgeted in a chair; both stared at their feet. Whoever was inside the office was receiving a bollocking. Another voice offered an apology. Robbie glanced sideways at James and mouthed, _Action Man_. James snorted, ducking his head down as the door swung open and Peterson stalked out. Robbie had to bite his lip to keep a straight face.

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Innocent caught both movements and allowed herself a moment's relief that, at least on the surface, things seemed back to normal. _United against Peterson has to be a good sign, surely?_ She gave Robbie a small nod as they went into her office.

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* * *

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Jean and Laura watched them from a distance and met up regularly to share their observations. It appeared all was well with the 'Dynamic Duo'; whatever had happened been dealt with and, like the two 'grown-ups' they sometimes were, they'd moved on.

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To Robbie all seemed well – most of the time. He and James went to the pub after work, and at least once a week they shared a meal at one of their flats. Robbie made sure that any drinking was kept to one or two beers – _no point in tempting fate, and it's better for me health _he repeatedly told himself. Occasionally, when they watched telly, James would briefly rest with his head against Robbie's shoulder, something he'd done in the past. They found a rhythm again, but to Robbie something felt off. Surprisingly, it was Peterson who made the first observation.

"Is James getting ready to fly the nest?"

Robbie looked at him quizzically.

"Well, you two are usually joined at the hip, most of the time you'd struggle to slip a credit card between you."

Robbie was getting annoyed at Peterson. "Do you have a point, man?"

Peterson took a step back at the nark in Robbie's tone. "Oh, er, it's just… seeing him lately, he's always a clear step or two ahead – or behind – standing out more, separate. Just wondered if he was preparing to take his OSPRE?"

"Oh." Robbie backed down. "I, um, he hasn't mentioned it recently."

"Right." He heard Peterson's drawl as he quickly walked away.

.

.

* * *

.

.

Robbie began to see other changes, and initially chose not to question James about them, presuming he would eventually 'snap out of it'.

Unless they were working on a case, James consistently left Robbie's by 10pm, even on a weekend. And he never accepted an offer to sleep on the couch, insisting he slept better in his own bed. He avoided inviting Robbie back to his flat, and Robbie never sought an invitation.

James stopped sitting on the edge of Robbie's desk, instead standing 'at ease' in front of or to the side, or else he leant against the window ledge.

He was still snarky and continued to deliver a fine line in dry wit and unwanted quotes, but he judiciously avoided any double entendres, or references to 'better halves' or 'happy marriages'.

Whenever James helped Robbie with his computer he now instructed him on what to do, rather than lean over his shoulder and sort it himself as was his practice.

And either James had lost weight or he had bought slightly larger shirts. No longer did the buttons gape when he sat or slouched.

Until those moments were missing, Robbie hadn't realised how often he and James were physically in contact on a daily basis, nor how aware he was of James's behaviours; he was, however, very conscious that this distancing was spilling over into their personal time.

They regularly spent up to fifteen hours a day in each other's company, yet they had never been further apart than they were now.

Robbie eventually realised he had to talk to James before what was left of their friendship was in ruins.

.

.

* * *

.

.

He watched James pick over the last of the chips.

"I think you should either transfer to a new Governor or take your OSPRE. The sooner the better." Robbie worked to keep his voice moderate and even.

James gaped at him, chip halfway to his mouth. "Wha..? Why? You're not retiring now, are you? You haven't said anything, why haven't you..." James voice rose in disbelief, his words cut-off by Robbie's raised hand.

Robbie huffed. "I've not said anything 'cos I've not decided on when."

James frowned. "Then why do I need to do anything now? Why should I move? Why can't we stay as we are?"

"Because what we are isn't what we were, what we were before 'you-know-what'? D'you remember I said if we couldn't work together _and_ be friends, go on as we were, then I'd rather keep your friendship over being your Governor?" James nodded, his face darkening as his frown deepened. "I don't want to lose your friendship James, but if this partnership doesn't go... You've changed lad, you've become too careful, too precise, too 'correct'. At work it's been just bearable, understandable, but now it's poisoning times like this." He swept his arms wide to take in the pub.

James stared in disbelief. "I haven't changed, I'm being... All I've done is taken your feelings into consideration and made a conscious effort to _not_ make you ill at ease. I don't want to split our partnership. I don't see any problem..."

"James, you said you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable working with me. If you're deliberately changing your behaviour then you're clearly not comfortable. I feel like I can't even joke around with you anymore – anything with the slightest double meaning and you either clam up completely or start apologising profusely. It's like being on a knife edge. If we can bring it down to one relationship, our friendship then..."

"_**Sir**_, I haven't changed!" James half-rose out of his seat in indignation

Robbie sighed and pointed to James's glass. "James, you can't even relax at the pub over a pint. You've been drinking tonic water on the rocks by choice for weeks now."

"Sir, I... That's not..."

When Robbie persisted, James walked away. Robbie didn't follow. He knew he was watching James shut down and fall apart in front of him, and he loved James too much to let that happen.

Sadly, James's reaction was what Robbie had feared, and he now knew what he had to do.

.

.

* * *

.

.

Several weeks passed as Robbie set the wheels in motion. He had to do this alone; it wasn't going to end well, no matter which way he tackled it, and he didn't have the strength to try and explain it to anyone else. All his emotional energy was being drained dealing with James. Now he faced his penultimate task.

.

"You're quite certain about this, Lewis?" Innocent attempted to catch Robbie's eye but his gaze was fixed on a point over her shoulder.

"Yes, Ma'am." The flatness in his voice gave her cause to doubt, though if she was honest with herself, she'd been both expecting and dreading something like this. Despite Robbie's earlier reassurances, she'd seen for herself that all was not as it had once been. She wanted to bang their heads together – as did Laura – but without knowing what had set them on this path it seemed pointless. No amount of cajoling or threats had brought an explanation.

"And James?" She saw Robbie's shoulders stiffen and held her breath.

"I… He doesn't know, Ma'am." His gaze never left the wall.

"Oh, _Robbie_." Her sadness was palpable, her disappointment caused her to sink back in her chair. "_Why? _"

Robbie finally made eye contact, his eyes heavy with sorrow. His voice was a harsh whisper. "It's complicated."

.

.

* * *

.

.

James was early. Again. Robbie opened the door and stepped back for James to come in. There it was again - the formal body language, the fear of putting a finger out of place, everything constantly reminding Robbie of the first boy Lyn had brought home, so certain he would die at Robbie's hands if he so much as looked at Lyn the wrong way. Watching James move toward the kitchen, Robbie reminded himself he had made the right decision; no matter what the immediate personal cost, in the long term this was the only way real forward for both of them.

Robbie quietly closed the door. He hesitated before walking slowly down the passage to where James stood waiting, expectation in his eyes.

He handed James a beer, ignoring his request for tea. "I'm out of teabags." It wasn't a lie, though he did have leaf tea; Robbie needed the beer, and if he was going to have one so was James. Robbie gestured toward the couch; James sat at the dining table. Robbie pushed down the frustration in his chest. There would be no easy way to do this, so he came straight to the point.

"I'm retiring, lad. Six more weeks; Innocent wants me to help get you through your OSPRE before I go and the next lot's up in four weeks. God knows how she expects me to help you, though – you've more than enough brains for the both of us."

James's voice was cold. "You're leaving? You're leaving _me_? But. You said... Is this how you... You're abandoning me?"

"I'm not abando–" Robbie briefly closed his eyes, he had to be calm. "I want you to move up, progress. _Damn it_, James, you could be Chief Constable one day if you put your mind to it, and I'm not going to be the reason you don't move forward, don't grow. And I want to spend time with me grandchildren – I've never had a chance to tell you our Lyn's pregnant again."

"Oh. Congratulations, sir." James's voice was distant and lost, his reply coming from deeply ingrained manners rather than any true sentiment. That wasn't what Robbie wanted for James; he fought to keep his rising frustration at bay.

"James? Where have you gone? Listen to you, lad. This isn't the James I grew to know and love. You've been replaced by this distant stranger; I can't reach you anymore. You look like James, sound like James, but you're not. Look at you, sitting there. The James I knew would be angry, not, not, whatever you are..."

When James spoke, it was as though he hadn't heard a word Robbie said after mentioning Lyn. "Four weeks. Not much time. It would appear I have some intensive study to do. Good night, sir." And he was gone.

Robbie stared at the door long after James had gone. James was right, he _was_ abandoning him, but only because he saw no other way. Despite James's words and assurances, Robbie was convinced that, while he was by his side, James was never going to completely abandon hope that, one day, Robbie might return his affections, and in doing so the real James Hathaway would be lost forever.

Robbie felt far older than his years. He supposed that was what it was like when a part of you died. He'd known James wouldn't take the news well, but this was far worse than expected. He'd expected fury, tears, even denials, not for James to close in on himself. He made a note to warn Innocent and the station psychologist, as much as he distrusted him; James was possibly going to need both in the near future if he didn't snap out of it. Robbie wondered for the first time if the station had a chaplain.

.

.

.

_One bloody ill-conceived kiss._ One small action had slowly, insidiously destroyed the trust and friendship and affection they'd had – because James couldn't admit that it wasn't enough, and Robbie was too set in his ways, too stuck in the past, to change. Robbie did love James, and knew he would probably love him until the day he died, but _sometimes_, he thought, _love just isn't enough_.


	2. So Well My Armour Did Resist

Robbie slumped at the table, cursing James and cursing himself. The more he told himself that it was 'for the best', the more hollow it began to sound. _Why does James have to make things so difficult? If he'd just got over this silly idea, if he could have just seen..._ He drained his beer and reached across the table for James's unfinished drink, which he swallowed down without a breath.

Two beers became four before Robbie dug out an opened bottle of whisky, took a mug from the drying rack, and found a notepad and pen in the drawer. He poured a large measure into the mug and drained it before sinking back into the chair. He scrawled on the paper – _Innocent, __Pyshc, pshyc__, head shrink, __chalp__, chaplain, Laura_ – then tipped the remaining whisky into the mug.

.

.

* * *

.

.

Robbie woke roughly, sprawled across the kitchen table. Opening the eye that wasn't pressed hard against the table, he could see the mug, tipped on its side, stuck in a tacky brown pool where the last of the whisky had spilled; whether he'd passed out or simply fallen asleep, he couldn't say. The spiral binding of the note pad dug into his wrist where his hand had lain on it all night, and the ink was now smeared and illegible. In his drunken state, he had drooled and the saliva, now dried, had stuck his lip to the table. The light in the room hurt his eyes and he silently prayed for someone to take the top of his head before it blew off of its own accord.

Moving his head cautiously, he saw another object and, squinting, recognised it as the bottom of the now empty bottle. Beyond the bottle was another shape and there was a familiar scent in the air. Gingerly pushing himself upright, Robbie peered across the table. James. James was sitting opposite him. Clearly, Robbie decided, he was seeing things, and he let his head drift slowly downwards.

"Sir."

_Oh, great, now I'm hearing things too._

**_"Inspector Lewis."_**

_Hell!_ Robbie pushed himself up, leaning heavily on his forearms, and stared blearily across the table. It really was James. _What the hell was he doing here?_

"What are you doing here?" Robbie winced at the sound of his own voice, ragged, rough and bitter. "An' how'd you get in?"

"You didn't answer your mobile or landline, nor were you at the station. I saw your car out the front and concluded you were still inside. As the drawn curtains made it impossible for me to check, I went back to the station and retrieved the spare key you keep in your desk drawer." James spoke in a quiet monotone.

"But _why're_ you here?" Robbie just wanted a simple answer he'd be able to comprehend in this wrecked state, and his patience was non-existent.

"Because Lyn called _me_ in a panic because she couldn't raise _you_."

"Lyn?"

"She was waiting to pick you up at the train station at eleven. You weren't on the train." James's features were impassive.

"Train...? **_Oh Hell_****... **_oh bugger._" Robbie cradled his head in his hands.

.

James watched in horror as the colour drained from Lewis's face. He'd never seen Lewis in this state before; he'd seen him drunk and hung-over, but never wasted. He did remember a quiet warning from Laura when he'd first been assigned to Lewis after the Griffon case, a plea from a friend to "keep an eye on him." James wondered fleetingly, if he had kept an eye on _himself_ that night... He shook his head. _Can't change the past Hathaway. Move on. It's what Robbie – Lewis, _he corrected _– wants. _

When he groaned again, James focussed back on Lewis.

"I've called Lyn, told her you'd slept through your alarm and I'd let her know which train you'd be on this afternoon."

"Train... oh, this after– better make it tomorrow." Lewis was clearly struggling to put his thoughts together.

.

James stood and walked away from the table. As Robbie watched him remove his phone from his pocket and quickly and efficiently tap out... something, the guilt of not having told James he was going away for the week rushed in. He'd planned to send James an email or a text once he was up in Manchester saying Lyn had called him up unexpectedly. It would have been the first time he'd lied to James to deceive and not protect him, and a lie he'd coerced Innocent into as well; it wasn't even a very good one. And now Lyn, through no fault of her own, was also implicated.

Robbie studied James through eyes half-closed against the light cutting through the window. It was Saturday and he wasn't on duty, yet here he was in a suit and tie. Somehow, Robbie understood that James was wearing it as armour and he was here only as a service to Lyn. James had even spoken to him as he would a witness or suspect in the interview room, detached, examining his responses and actions. Even through the fog of his hangover, Robbie could feel the defences James had swiftly and solidly built around himself. _I asked for this. I wanted him to drop the fool notion that I'd... What's done is done. He'll pass his exams, and get my old position and a bagman of his own. He'll work it out. _But as certain as Robbie was of James's future path, he also knew it was unlikely James would ever come through his door as a friend again, and his heart sank like lead.

"Sir?"

Robbie slowly lifted his eyes at James's impatient tone.

"I said, Lyn is expecting you on the same train tomorrow; understandably she was quite concerned and wants you to call her as soon as possible. I've rebooked your ticket – your wallet's on the bench." James stepped towards the door. "I... I'm meeting with the Chief Super first thing Monday morning. I think perhaps it would be better if... I hope you have a restful week's break, sir. Goodbye."

.

.

* * *

.

.

Robbie's week in Manchester was a nightmare. His emails to Innocent went unanswered, she was 'never available' to take his calls, and she only returned one – to tell him that he was on holiday, everything was under control, and he would be briefed on his return the following Monday. "Briefed about what?" She terminated the call before he could get her to clarify.

He'd been unable to bring himself to send James even a simple text to ask how things were going. He justified his action by telling himself it would only encourage James, give him false hope;pride was a stubborn bastard. He couldn't even reply to the one very formal text James had sent on the Monday afternoon – at Innocent's request, according to the message – informing him that DI Laxton was "_assisting me with exam prep this week to ensure best use of my available time_". Robbie had tried not to think what that said about himself, and about his choices; until now, he'd never considered himself a coward.

He'd been short-tempered and snappy, setting Lyn off and fighting with Tim; in the end he'd spent the last two days in a hotel, unable to stay at Lyn's any longer and reluctant to return to Oxford. Soaking in self-pity, in an impersonal room with a bottle of whisky, Robbie had considered emailing Innocent to say he wouldn't be coming back. But as he'd had no clear plan as to where he would go or what he would do once retirement did come, the thought of adding five weeks to that sentence made him want to disappear forever.

Suicide was never an option in Robbie's mind. Far too often he had seen the devastating effects on those left behind and had sworn he would never inflict that pain on anyone, no matter how great his own. And, despite his current position, he refused to disappear into the bottom of a bottle again. He'd driven Mark away, and nearly lost Lyn as well, when his love affair with brandy had bloomed. Australia had been good for Mark, perhaps he should consider going there, or maybe Canada – he had cousins in Toronto.

He felt his anger at James growing, and blamed him for bringing him to this point; this was _not_ how he'd ever envisioned his career ending.  
.

.

* * *

.

.

When he walked into the office the following Monday, Innocent was waiting for him, seated at James's desk.

"Ma'am? Where's... is James not coming in?" Robbie felt his irritation rising. _Damn the lad._

Innocent stared at him. The look was a clear warning, but Robbie was too caught up in himself to care.

"Lewis, I should be able to ask _you_ that question and be confident of getting an answer."

When Robbie stood silent, keeping his face a mask, she exhaled sharply and continued. "James has requested to be removed from this position, effective immediately. He's currently working with Peterson on a series of cyber attacks on several of the colleges, and Laxton, Peterson and I are assisting with his exam preparations – again at his request. I'll be assigning Acting DC Lockhart to you in the interim."

Not entirely shocked at the developments, Robbie only nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He couldn't even muster enough indignation to protest at not being assigned a sergeant.

Innocent rose and walked around the desk so she was standing in front of him. "Robbie, what's happened?" she asked quietly, the concern in her voice stinging like a slap to the face.

"What's..." Robbie cleared his throat with a cough. "What's James told you?"

Innocent pursed her lips. "Nothing, which makes my decisions harder. The only thing he's made _perfectly clear_ is that he doesn't want to work with you. He's more rigid and rule oriented than he's ever been. He's tighter than a fish's arse. He's diligent, efficient, respectful – and a complete and utter stranger. Even Laura can't wheedle a smile out of him. Robbie, who is he and what have you done with James Hathaway?" There was no humour in her voice, no smile.

"James is his own man, Ma'am. He has to do this his way." Robbie couldn't say anything more without lying to himself. _It's what you wanted, you stupid fool. You wanted James to move on. _He blinked back the tears that pricked at his eyes. _ But you didn't want to lose him completely and now you can't go back. Five weeks. You can get through this. You have your own future to plan; it'll just be a little different from the one you'd hoped, a little... emptier. _Slowly – too bloody slowly – he was realising that he had made a massive error of judgement and had no clue how to start to reverse it. Pride was also a harsh master.

.

.

* * *

.

.

They were kept busy during that week and Robbie was thankful he had little time to think about James or about his own feelings. Julie did an admirable job – she was no James, but she proved to be a very fast learner, and her ability to put people at ease, lulling them into saying more than they perhaps intended, was a valuable asset.

He was grateful Julie was on a learning curve as it gave him an excuse to keep her nearby when they were at the crime scene or in the morgue. With a growing sense of shame, he admitted to himself that he was using Julie as a buffer against Laura, focussing on her training as an excuse to avoid being alone with Laura, who had made it very clear, without words, that she was beyond angry with him. He was indignant: _It's not all my fault, if James had never..._ He debated long and hard with himself about telling Laura; he wanted to defend himself, but couldn't silence the voice that told him Laura would be unsympathetic, nor the one that told him with increasing frequency that he was the one in the wrong.

It was inevitable that he would run into James from time to time at the station, as the nature of the job forced them into the same room for various briefings and meetings. Robbie never knew if James tried to make eye contact during these encounters because he did his damnedest not to look. He tried to tell himself it was because he didn't want to do anything that might rekindle James's hopes, but in truth it was because he was feeling the loss of James's friendship keenly and was afraid it would show in his face. He was painfully counting down the days until he retired.

He slept poorly, ate fitfully, and drank more than he probably should have.

.

.

* * *

.

.

"Where's your human shield?"

Robbie jumped at the sound of Laura's voice, and growled, "What're you talki–"

"Oh, come on, Robbie!" Laura snapped, as she closed the door and leant against it. "You've done a reasonable job bluffing everyone else this week – either that, or they're all too afraid of you to start gossiping – but this is me; I'm not fooled, neither is Jean." Frustration radiated from her.

Robbie sat stony-faced. Julie was due back from forensics at any moment and he was not starting this conversation now.

"You have to talk about this at some point, Robbie – whatever it is – because it's going to eat you up if you don't."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic…"

Robbie flung himself back in his chair as Laura rushed his desk, slapping both palms down hard on the surface and whispered harshly, "Robert Lewis, you are bad-tempered, pale, you've lost a noticeable amount of weight, and the bags under your eyes almost reach your chin!" She glared at him, breathing heavily through her nose.

Robbie's body sagged as he accepted she was right. Laura's chin dropped to her chest and she sighed heavily. She spoke softly to the desktop. "I overheard James and Jean talking – something about Italy on Monday. Sounds like he's going away for a fortnight."

"What about his exam?" Robbie frowned.

"I assume he'll be back for it – Jean's told me he's given her his word he'll sit it; whether he makes use of it or not is up to him."

"Eh?" Robbie frowned.

"Robbie, there's no guarantee he's going to stick around afterwards. He's been going through the motions – just like you." Laura's sadness hung between them.

There was a sharp knock at the door. Laura scowled fiercely when Robbie visibly relaxed and called out a little too eagerly, "Come in."

The door swung open quickly. "Sorry, sir," Julie stammered when she saw Dr Hobson. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Not a problem, lass, the good doctor was just leaving."

Laura gave Robbie a look that made his balls draw up, and left him in no doubt that this conversation was nowhere near finished.

Julie looked questioningly at Lewis as Laura stalked out.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Julie." He tried to reassure her. "Doctor Hobson has a bone to pick with me."

Robbie stared at the report Julie handed him without seeing it. That James might not go through with the promotion had never occurred to him. He did remember James once saying, "if you go, I go", but surely that was because he entertained the hope that they'd be something more to each other one day. Robbie wondered sadly how different things could have been if he hadn't acted so blindly, so selfishly.

.

.

* * *

.

.

Laura caught him in the car park as he left late on Saturday afternoon, quickly getting into the passenger seat of his car before he could stop her.

"What d'you think you're..." Robbie spat out.

"You will talk to me, Robbie. Tonight. Now. Your place, my place, or the pub – I don't really care. Jean's hands are tied on this but mine aren't."

Robbie hesitated at the determination in her eyes. "Innocent's hands are tied? What..."

"When she pressed him, James formally requested no official course of action be taken to 'determine the cause of the rift'. Therefore, Jean's hands are tied; mine aren't – I'm not part of the constabulary." She glared at him, as if daring him to protest.

Robbie slumped in his seat. He was suddenly too tired to run from Laura any longer, and in that moment decided he simply wanted it to be over.

"Can we pick up takeaway on the way?" he said quietly. "I've nothing in."

"I have a beef and Guinness stew in the slow cooker." Laura's voice was gentler. "If you help with the potatoes, I'll share."

Robbie tried and failed to raise a smile, and saw the sadness creep back into Laura's eyes.

.

They ate in silence. Robbie was thankful Laura didn't want to talk – or chose not to – until they'd finished eating and had moved into the living room.

They sat quietly for several long minutes, as Robbie stared into the depths of his coffee cup. His earlier conviction was beginning to waver and he was considering leaving without a word when Laura spoke.

"What happened, Robbie? Truthfully; this is me. You're retiring in few weeks, what do you have to lose in telling me now?"

Robbie remained silent, struggling to decide where to begin. He continued to stare into his cup.

Laura shuffled closer to Robbie and started again. "I told James not to run from whatever had happened, to face up to it, work it through. I reasoned, obviously incorrectly, that you'd be able to do that. Instead you've turned tail and run away from him."

"What did James tell you?" Robbie knew his anxiety would be clear on his face.

Laura sighed. "All he's been willing to say is that he presumed too much, expected too much from you."

Robbie covered his face with his hands and moaned softly.

Laura rested her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Oh, Robbie, it can't be that bad, surely. I know you feel you've done your share of parenting but how hard..."

Robbie gave an astonished snort. "Parenting? You think this is about James wanting a... a father figure?"

"It... isn't?" Laura asked hesitantly.

"Not even close. He wants... bloody hell... he wanted... damn it, he probably still wants – more, he..."

"Hugged you? Touched you?" Laura offered. "Is it really so bad if he wants a touch or a hug every now and then, some assurance that someone cares about him? Because you do care, Robert Lewis; you can't tell me you don't."

Robbie looked at her, warring emotions churning inside. "A hug's one thing, Laura – he _kissed_ me!"

"Ah," Laura said softly.

"Ah? That's _it_? Ah?" Robbie was incredulous.

"Robbie," she said patiently, placing a hand on his arm. "The thought had crossed my mind, but I dismissed it. Was a snog or just a simple kiss? Was it a bad kiss?" Laura was completely serious. Robbie stared, looking for any indication of a smile; the tiniest twitch would do.

"Was it a... it was a _kiss! On the lips! _Does it really matter what kind of kiss it was?"

"Yes. Yes, it matters very much. Women kiss each other all the time; it doesn't mean we're dying to get inside each other's knickers. It's a perfectly acceptable form of greeting – among men and women – in many cultures and countries, as is hugging." She gave him no opportunity to interrupt. "Yes, it's also a sign of deeper affection but it doesn't automatically mean James wants to shag you. Did you even ask him about it – properly? Or did you just assume and give James nowhere else to go? Well?"

Robbie exhaled a slow, heavy sigh. "We talked about it; James offered to transfer or resign – I didn't want that." He ignored Laura's raised eyebrows. "He told me he'd been thinking about it, about me, kissing me – oh, not in as many words, but he didn't deny it when I asked him."

Laura sat up a little straighter. "So you _did_ ask him what he wanted? What he hoped to get – have – with you?"

"Y– Well, not..." Robbie turned away from Laura and shook his head. "Not exactly," he mumbled

Laura tutted. "So. You took one non-denial and made an assumption from that about what he wanted. And everything you've said or done since then has been based on that?"

Robbie covered his face with his hands, his words muffled. "It wasn't..." He groaned loudly and peered at Laura through his fingers. "Yes."

Laura pursed her lips, breathing heavily through her nose. She closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. "Did you ever... Why didn't you try to talk it out, reach a compromise?"

"I tried. I told him that I wanted his friendship above all else, but he changed, Laura. He wasn't James."

Laura's gaze made Robbie want to shrink into the couch.

"Robbie, if I thought there was a possibility that, in a weak or tired or drunk moment, I might kiss or hug you, and that that action would make you repel me, I'd be overly cautious, too. I might even become a little paranoid that, if I did so, you might reject me forever."

Robbie covered his face again as the logic of Laura's words sank in. Laura wasn't quite finished, and Robbie felt himself shrink away from the tone of her voice.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I called you thick or cruel, Robert Lewis, but here it is. You've thrown your retirement on James – on all of us – with little explanation. You of all people know James; you know he would never wilfully do anything to hurt you. But if he thinks he has he won't defend himself – you showed him how futile that could be during the McEwan case. Remember – he nearly died because you threw all your fear and anger and self-righteousness at him and refused to hear him out, so he turned to the one person who seemingly hadn't rejected him for what happened. Yet his love for you never faltered."

Robbie raised his head slowly and looked at Laura. What she saw made her gasp.

"Oh. You knew James loved...?"

"I do now. The irony is... I love him, too. No. Not like that." Laura's mouth had dropped open in shock. "It's like... I don't know how to explain it – I've tried, but it sounds stupid. I just know that I do."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Robbie was very aware of Laura studying him and he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.

Laura laid her hand lightly on Robbie's arm and, for the first time, spoke softly. "You miss him. Don't try to lie to me; you've been miserable since this happened."

Robbie swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat at the undeserved gentleness in Laura's voice. He briefly considered trying to deny the truth of her words but knew it would be futile. Hell, he'd told James to his face that he loved him; he'd made a right mockery of those words, hadn't he. _Convinced meself I acted out of love for James and it was nothing but fear – fear of what I felt, and of what I couldn't give him._

"I didn't really understand what I had until he wasn't there." His voice was barely a whisper. "It wasn't just pints down the pub and sharing a takeaway. We didn't have to talk, you know? I could give him a look and he'd know exactly what I needed him to do, or what I was thinking. But it was more than that."

He scrubbed hard at his face, and ran his hands roughly through his hair. He turned to Laura, giving up all pretence of being in control. "What have I done?" he whispered. "What do I do?"

Laura's eyes studied him intently. Despite all his years of experience Robbie couldn't interpret her gaze. He was completely lost, and as much as he desperately wanted to turn away from her scrutiny, he couldn't; he needed her insight because he recognised that he had royally fucked up and didn't know where to begin to try to make things right again – or if it were at all possible.

"Call him, Robbie."

"What if he won't…"

"Call him." Laura cut through his feeble protest. "James won't come to you. All you've left him is his pride – and God knows you've managed to batter that to a pulp." She hesitated as Robbie winced, continuing softly. "Even the most loyal of friends has their breaking point. If you truly understand what you've done to him, you can start to repair it; but you have to call him. And _listen_ this time."

Robbie clenched his hands together tightly to control the trembling.

"Call him tomorrow, Robbie."

"Could you…" His voice trailed off at Laura's hard stare.

"Not until I know you've made a damn good effort on your own."

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* * *

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Robbie sat in a chair and stared at the phone. James was number two on speed-dial – Lyn was number one – a simple procedure, if only he could bring himself to lift the handset.

He'd driven home cautiously from Laura's heavy-hearted and distracted, his mind churning over everything said and heard. He'd lain awake for a while, finally falling into a fitful sleep as his mind turned over how he might begin to approach James. He'd woken exhausted but resolved to at least attempt to talk to James.

That was eight hours ago.

"Ah, bollocks!" he spat.

He pushed himself roughly to his feet, grabbed his keys and coat, and walked determinedly out of the flat.

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"James." Robbie knocked again. Robbie's voice was low, clear and calm. "I know you're in there, James; I saw you through the window." Robbie bowed his head and listened for any movement in the flat.

As he raised his hand to knock one final time, the door opened.

"Sir." James's voice was as unreadable as his face.

"I know I'm the last person you want to see, but..." Robbie chewed at his bottom lip. This had all seemed so straightforward when he'd rehearsed in the car; he'd make his opening move and James would let him in. What he'd say once inside the door he still couldn't get straight in his head; however, having concluded it was his head that had brought him to this point, he'd decided to trust his heart instead. He took a deep, centring breath.

"I, er... I saw Laura last night. She, um..." Robbie breathed heavily through his nose. _Showed me the error of my ways_ was on the tip of his tongue and he cringed inwardly at how trite it sounded. "She gave me a lot to think about. Do you think we could talk? I don't have to come in – we could go to the pub if you'd prefer somewhere..."

James stepped back and held the door open. "Please, come in," he murmured politely. Robbie hesitated as he registered James's posture and tone. James was often unfailingly polite with people he regarded as an unknown quantity; it was his way of testing the ground. Robbie knew he deserved it.

James brushed past him as he walked toward the living area. A bottle of whisky sat on the breakfast bar, a single empty glass on the coffee table.

James took a clean glass from the cupboard and poured a large measure. "Would you like a drink, sir?" He stepped towards Robbie with the drink in his outstretched hand.

Robbie took the offered glass with a small nod and stood awkwardly in middle of the room.

"Have a seat, please, sir." James scooped up the glass from the coffee table and poured himself another drink. Judging by the level in the bottle, and James's composure, Robbie guessed James had only had the one drink before he arrived unannounced.

Robbie sat on the couch while James sat at the breakfast bar. He could hear the tick of his watch in the silence between them.

He glanced up at James, who was staring into the depths of his glass. Robbie could see his jaw twitching, and recognised it as a sign that, for all his air of control, James was as nervous as he was.

James's eyes flickered towards Robbie. In a poor attempt to cover the movement, James took a large gulp of his drink, which caused him to cough harshly. Robbie jumped at the sharp sound, and it was as though a switch had been thrown.

"I'm sorry." It came out as a harsh sob, the pain in it startling Robbie himself. He forced himself to look back at James, who was staring at him, a deep crease across his brow. Having started, Robbie found he couldn't stop.

"I've made a big mistake – the biggest of my life. I've been a bully; I've bullied you and pushed you. I was scared, James, and I know it's no excuse, I was a coward. I never really gave you a chance and denied you the right to speak your heart because I wanted to believe I knew better, that I knew what was best for you and all I've done is rip you apart. Like some tyrant, I pushed you on a path you didn't choose. I accused you of changing but I was the one who changed – you only reacted to me, doing what you thought would make it easier for me. You tried to protect me."

Robbie swallowed hard and took a deep breath, holding it to push down the pain in his chest. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry I didn't trust you, most of all I'm sorry I've destroyed our friendship. I didn't understand how truly precious it was until it wasn't there."

James hadn't said a word, hadn't made a sound. Robbie's shame and James's silence propelled Robbie to his feet.

"Wait." James voice was quiet and controlled. "Please. Don't go. Not yet."

Robbie sank slowly back into the couch, silently grateful he didn't have to walk as he honestly didn't think his legs would have carried him to the door. He heard the creak of the stool as James moved, and felt the couch shift slightly as James sat at the other end.

"I made a mistake, too," James began, his voice gaining strength as he spoke. "I didn't speak up. I didn't fight to be heard. Essentially, I held back evidence and let you be judge, jury, and executioner without all the facts. That was my mistake. Although, in this case, I don't know whether knowing all the facts would have really made any difference."

Robbie glanced sideways. James was hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him, as though in prayer.

"I'd like..." Robbie rasped when James didn't speak again. He coughed and took a sip from his glass. "Maybe it's too late, but I'm... I'm ready to listen if you think..." Robbie struggled to find the right words without sounding patronising or mocking. He felt like weeping as James ended his floundering, understanding what Robbie was trying to say and not forcing him to say it. _Another kindness I don't deserve_, thought Robbie.

"In a perfect world, you would have kissed me back that night. You may not have understood why you kissed me and had questions, but you would have accepted that you could – we could – have talked it over later, as we've done with many things. I know you're not gay – that you've never shown any physical interest in men, more specifically me – but that didn't stop me hoping. I believe sexuality is fluid and that labels are dangerous. But I also understand that many people rely on those labels to make sense of the world."

James huffed a small laugh. "Very early on, you became my closest friend – there are those who would say my only friend. I loved you because, despite our differences, you accepted me as I was; you never sought to change any part of me and you took me into your life and made me a part of it, let me be something more to you than just your bagman. Over time you went from being my closest friend to... well, someone I saw as being in my life forever – or at least a hell of a long time. I'd never connected with anyone, or been accepted by anyone, as fully as I had by you." James lifted his head, his gaze cast out beyond the window opposite. "I had this silly dream. We would live 'happily ever after'. You would decide that, while you weren't gay, you could love me, and _only_ me, that way. You would be in my heart, my life and... until death parted us." He paused and blinked slowly. "I held onto that dream for years and, even though I knew it would never be, as long as there was even the remotest possibility the hope stayed alive." James's head dropped low, his voice quieter. "When I saw your face that night the dream shrivelled and died. What hope could there be when you were so horrified?"

Robbie's breath caught in his throat and his limbs felt immobilised; he blinked back the tears that threatened to flow. He'd been here once before, when he'd had to tell Lyn and Mark that their mum was dead, shattering their lives and changing their futures. He'd always believed he could never bring that much grief to another as long as he lived, and especially not to someone he cared for, yet, although James had become the most important person in his life, he'd managed to turn on him. From the depths of his mind came the questions he'd failed to ask through all of this: Why? Why had James kissed him? Why had James harboured dreams of a future together? The words came out before Robbie could think about them, his voice quiet and more than a little remorseful.

"Did I do something that made you think we... did I encourage you somehow?"

James turned slowly towards him.

"Yes." One word, spoken quietly but firmly; James could have fired a gun at him and shocked him less.

Robbie tried to speak, to ask James 'when, what?'. All he could manage were short, sharp breaths.

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"It was little things at first, things I initially put down to the way you chose to mentor your bagman. I was used to being... kept in my place. You came along and you listened to me, you wanted to hear what I had to say. Then at the end of that first case you bought me a drink – Knox had never done that – and it grew from there." Robbie felt James move on the couch; a furtive glance showed that James had turned towards him.

James released a slow breath and continued. "Regular drinks and meals at the pub became takeaway and drinks in your home, and then nights on the couch. Some nights you'd let me fall asleep with my head on your shoulder, and you were always kind when you had to wake me. You let me make myself at home – I know your flat as well as my own; you even started buying the bread I liked." James's voice became quieter. "And before _that _night, you never moved away from me; sitting, standing, walking – no matter how close I was, you _never _moved away. I'd often wondered what you'd do if I were to kiss you or tell you how I really felt – if you could openly return even a tiny part of what I felt – then I did and..."

A silence fell between them. Robbie wasn't sure if James was gathering his thoughts or waiting for him to say something. It wasn't a comfortable silence. Robbie wasn't sure he could speak; the very things that had given James hope were what Robbie missed most about not having him around. A sobering thought was forming in his mind.

James continued, his voice becoming brittle and cold.

"You know, I cared too much about you ever to have asked you to be someone you weren't, to do anything you didn't believe in. But it seems you assumed that's exactly what I would do, given the chance. It's the only thing that that makes any sense of this whole damn mess – that you were expecting me to force the issue. You said you didn't know me, that I wasn't 'the James you'd grown to love'. Well, you were no longer the person I'd longed after either. Everything was wrong. I knew rationally you'd never kiss me back, despite my hopes and dreams, but I never expected to be so completely rejected. Why? Where was the kindness, the compassion, the understanding? The Detective Inspector Robert Lewis everyone else knows has all those qualities. The DI Lewis I knew wouldn't have sent me away without trying to talk about what happened; but _you_ did. Why?"

"I honestly don't know, James." Robbie felt hollow. "We'd been drinking, I panicked, over-reacted, saw you risking your – our careers. When I calmed down a bit, I was ready to simply put it down to too much booze, but then you didn't come into work, you took leave, you wouldn't talk to me. I didn't know what to do. Maybe if I'd had the balls to be honest with Laura... she'd've set things straight."

Robbie shook his head slowly as he gathered his thoughts. When he'd finally heard James's side, all of his careful ideas and arguments had been tipped on end. While he'd anticipated some of it, a lot was shockingly unexpected and had set his mind whirling furiously along other possibilities.

"I convinced meself I was protecting you. I made one sodding excuse after the other. Then it was... my pride passed the point of no return. I was ready to throw some of the best years of me life on the scrap heap instead of admittin' I'd cocked up. I wish I could give you a better answer, James, be able to tell you I was reacting to something in my past. But I wasn't. Though, now I wonder if I was... " Robbie hesitated.

"If you were...?" James was staring at him with an intensity he found unsettling.

Robbie shuddered as a deep sigh escaped. "...if I was reacting to something I didn't understand in me – a part of me that didn't think what you were offering was..."

James frowned and Robbie knew he wasn't explaining himself well; he wasn't sure he could but, if there was any chance at all of salvaging their friendship, he had to try.

"What I'm thinking – _now _– is did I go too far in pushing you away because there _was_ a part of me that was willing to give you what you wanted that night, even though it went against everything I've known and believed about myself?"

James's frowned deepened. _Not surprising_, thought Robbie. _I probably sound like a blithering idiot_. "We were drunk, and it had been a long time since anyone had kissed me or touched my face the way you did. What if, out of my own selfish need, I _had_ kissed you back and we'd... whatever might have happened next? It would have been dubious consent at best. And it wouldn't have been because it was you; it would have been me giving in to... urges." Slow recognition dawned on James's face. "I think, maybe, on a level I didn't recognise, it came down to... I didn't trust myself," Robbie finally whispered. "And I'm so, so sorry I couldn't see it before."

James sat so pale and still he could have been carved from stone; the only movement was the slight rise and fall of his chest and the occasional flicker of his eyes.

"You _'didn't think what I was offering was'_ what? Horrifying? Unpalatable?" James offered.

Robbie met his gaze calmly. "Unreasonable."

"What?"

"I... there _was _no spark, but... I was shocked, but not disgusted, no matter what you thought. Anyone else and I might have laughed it off as a stupid prank. But I couldn't've laughed at you – you're far too important to me – and you'd never do anything so... juvenile, so laddish, no matter how drunk you were."

Robbie scoured his face with his hands.

"I'm not saying I've found a gay side to meself – I've only been with women... that way... never harboured any sort of interest in blokes. I told you that before and that was the honest truth. But... oh, god, James, I miss you. I miss you nearly as much as I missed Val: I miss the reassurance of your touch; I miss the easy silences; I miss the comfort you brought me." He looked James in the eye and saw confusion and hope. "I could never be your... your lover, and if that's what you truly want then maybe it's best I walk away now, but... if you can ever bring yourself to trust me again, is there a way... a middle ground?"

James's stillness was unnerving. Robbie thought if he leant close enough he would hear James's mind working through all the possibilities and permutations, evaluating and discarding each idea, discarding him. Robbie knew he had no right to expect an answer, but he wanted to know where James stood, even if that was to ask for time to think. He was guiltily aware of the fact that he was asking James to give him what he hadn't given James – a chance.

"I don't suppose we can go back to where we were. My retirement's pending and you, well, you'll do whatever you choose to. I hope you'll go forward in your career; that's one thing I've always wanted for you. But..."

"Is anything really set in stone?" James pondered. "A couple of weeks ago I believed I'd spoken to you for the very last time, and I certainly never expected to see you in my flat again – and yet here we are. Is there a middle ground?" James took a deep breath. "I hope so; maybe if we laid all our cards on the table – wants, fears, needs, limits. I don't think I ever stopped trusting you – not completely. I am warier, though, and, by extension, wiser."

"James, I..." Robbie couldn't stop his hands from shaking, no matter how tightly he twisted them together. James reached across and gently laid a hand on Robbie's wrist – he was trembling too.

"Robbie." He gasped softly at the strangeness of his name in James's mouth. "Promise me you'll never forget what's happened these past months. History forgotten is destined to be repeated, and I don't think I could go through that again."

Robbie nodded. "I doubt I could forget; I promise I won't." He stared at the long fingers lying warm against his arm before lifting his eyes to study James's face. He moved closer, cautiously wrapped one arm around James and drew him into his embrace. James moved easily into his arms and rested his chin against Robbie's shoulder. Robbie couldn't see his face, but he felt James exhale a shuddering sigh and something trickled down his neck. Robbie tried to remember the last time he'd felt this humbled – and undeserving.

James's arms loosened and he pushed himself back, his face composed. Robbie had sworn to himself that he would not be the first to break the hug; he'd sought a second chance and he was determined James would have no cause to regret giving it.

"Would... would you like to stay for dinner, sir? I've got several menus to choose from and..." James's voice trailed off.

"Dinner sounds good – whatever you choose is fine with me. And maybe you could consider calling me Robbie when we're off duty." Robbie held James in place with his gaze. "I've got a lot to try to put right, James, but that'll take time," he said softly. "Right now, though, there are a few other things we should probably talk through – your shot at Inspector for one." James tilted his head in a query, making Robbie smile. "I'm sure your OSPRE exam's all under control, but if you think I'll let Peterson or Laxton supervise you through the second half, you've got another think coming. Oh, they're good officers, don't get me wrong, but you'd drive them 'round the bend. An' as much as I don't like Peterson, I'm not that cruel."

"But you're retiring? Everything's in motion – isn't it?" Robbie smiled sheepishly at James's puzzled frown.

"There might be a way, but only if you want me to, that is," he stressed, aware he was at risk of making a decision for James again.

"I think for the sanity of all concerned, it could be a wise decision; and I'm very curious to see how you pull it off." James grinned widely. "But I doubt it will be as straightforward as simply withdrawing your resignation."

"It's not my plans you should be concerned with. Do you think this is the first time Innocent's had you down for promotion? She'll have something up her sleeve – you can bet on it."

James snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"

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Robbie yawned widely and unexpectedly, startling James.

"Oh, shit, I didn't realise it was that late. I'm sorry, sir..."

"James." Robbie sighed. "How many bloody times am I going to have to tell you? It's Robbie. If you can't remember that simple fact, then your OSPRE's going to be bloody interesting." He grinned at him fondly

James gave him a small, embarrassed smile. "I will endeavour to do better,_ Robbie_."

Robbie leant across and ruffled James's hair, leaving his hand resting against the back of James's head. He smiled wistfully. "I wish I knew what I'd done right to deserve a friend like you. There's not many who'd have forgiven a stupid bastard like me."

"They say 'love conquers all'," James murmured.

Robbie sank back against the couch. "Aye, I suppose maybe it does." He stared up at the ceiling. Robbie felt both at peace and terrified. James was still here, but they still had so far to go. They'd been talking off and on for hours, switching between topics and comfortable silences. From briefly discussing James's upcoming OSPRE exam and Robbie's possible future involvement, their conversation had then moved onto whether Peterson would ever convince Laura to go out with him, Robbie's grandson, and James's choice of single malt (it was a distillery Robbie had never heard of and a damn fine drop), before coming back to how he and James would best move forward. He knew they still had a lot to talk about but neither of them did 'feelings' well, and although he was reluctant to leave things as they were, he did have work in the morning and James was going away.

James pushed himself up in the seat where he'd gradually slumped. When he spoke, Robbie realised they were once again in sync. "I feel like I want to keep going – tie some threads into a coherent plan of some description – but you look shattered, Robbie. At least I don't have to face work in the morning. How about you come for dinner again tomorrow night? I'll cook and..."

"But tomorrow's Monday," Robbie spluttered. "What about your holiday? Italy?"

"Italy? I'm taking leave, but only to ensure I don't find myself on a case when the exam comes up – it was Innocent's idea. 'Ensure you're well-rested, James – even the best scholars need to sleep.' But I'm not going anywhere. _Mr Innocent's_ going to Italy on business and she was complaining about..."

Robbie laughed. "Bloody Laura! Eavesdropping and getting the conversation arse about. Where were you talking?"

"Car park. I didn't see Dr Hobson anywhere, though."

"No, you wouldn't have." Robbie thought back to her ambush. "She's good at lurking unseen. Dinner tomorrow it is, James."

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By agreement, and the half-empty bottle of whisky, Robbie caught a taxi home – James would drive over in the morning and take him back for his car. He collapsed into bed exhausted and, for the first time in weeks, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he woke on Monday morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so light. He sighed contentedly and briefly lay back against the pillows, smiling at the ceiling. Throwing back the covers, he rolled himself out of bed; there was no time to lie around – he'd promised James breakfast and he'd be here in the next half hour.

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	3. He Shot Himself Into My Heart

The sun was making a pathetic attempt to lift the gloom as James stepped out on to the unfamiliar street. Given the choice between sitting his OSPRE exam in London or Coventry, he'd opted for the latter. He turned his face up to the drizzle, letting the chill of the breeze on his damp skin revive him. It had been quite a few years since he'd sat in an exam room for three hours and, on top of that, James hated multiple-choice; you were right or wrong, with no opportunity to explain your logic, no way of showing how your mind reached its conclusion. No chance to be clever, he'd told Lewis as they'd driven up. Lewis had told him there was plenty of time for cleverness after he'd passed his exam. "Just get in there and do what you need to do; I'll find us a nice pub for after."

"Fancy a pint or three, lad? Tell us how it went?" James turned towards the familiar voice and grinned. Lewis kept walking and James fell into step beside him, their coat sleeves brushing as they walked purposefully down the street.

"Where are we going?"

"There's a nice wee pub around the corner. A chap at the Transport Museum recommended it ."

"Planes, trains and automobiles, eh, sir?"

"Road transport only, James; planes and trains are elsewhere – and it's Robbie," he added, giving James a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Here we are."

They were still early enough to beat the evening crowd, and James spotted a corner table far enough from the fire that they wouldn't be roasted, but close enough to benefit from its heat. He draped his coat of the back of a spare chair and had just settled in his own when two pints appeared on the table. Robbie sat down, not in the chair opposite James, but the one next to him. James resisted the urge to rest his head against the comforting firmness of Robbie's shoulder, not because the exam had been particularly onerous – part two was going to be the real test for him – but simply because Robbie was there as he'd promised.

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* * *

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**TWO WEEKS EARLIER**

James guffawed when he received a text from Laura just before nine on Monday morning.

/So happy for you. Knew the silly bugger would finally see sense. L x/

He wondered if Robbie – if he didn't practice thinking of him as Robbie, James knew he'd be 'sir-ring' him until one of them dropped dead – would tell him how _that_ conversation went down. Knowing Laura, she'd probably pinned him down as soon as he'd walked into the office. He snorted softly at the mental image of Laura backing Robbie against his desk until he told her everything. _Poor Julie_, he thought. _She'll take a while to recover from witnessing that_. He trusted Innocent would be more restrained in her response.

Over breakfast he and Robbie had again discussed James's exam and what would happen – what they hoped _could_ happen – next. James had written a quick summary and Robbie promised he would try to meet with Innocent that day; he'd fleetingly wondered if he would be called in.

James planned to spend most of the day studying and turned to his books; it was more to keep his mind focused on something rather than out of any real need to revise. He'd barely started when his mobile announced a new message then started ringing.

"Hathaway."

"James, you sound much brighter."

James huffed a small embarrassed laugh at the obvious smile in Innocent's voice. "Thank you, Ma'am."

"I've just met with Inspector Lewis and, I have to say, I couldn't have hoped for a better start to my week. I expect you'll be catching up with him at some point soon, but I wanted to tell you what I told him. Obviously, I can't make any promises, but you have my full support. I _will _have to meet with the Deputy Chief Constable and the Director of Human Resources but, quite honestly, I don't envisage any major obstacles. From the proposal _you_ outlined – Lewis's presentation had your fingerprints all over it, James, so don't try to deny it – I assume you've discussed the difference between the OSPRE Part Two and the processes under the NPPF, or is Lewis taking you at your word?"

"He was aware it was now a work-based assessment, but was a bit surprised when I pointed out that I would be an acting DI as soon as I started the programme. He had concerns about the suitability of a DI supervising an acting DI, hence the detail in the proposal."

James heard Innocent exhale heavily. "You might like to ensure Lewis understands exactly how the NPPF works – it's a bit different to the process he went through, and he's had no real need to familiarise himself with it to this point. We don't want any more surprises down the track, do we James?"

"No, Ma'am, definitely not." James hoped he'd kept his voice even; he was curious to see Robbie's reaction when he asked him _that_.

James heard her sigh softly. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you've sorted out whatever it was that happened between you."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

After ending the call, James checked his messages.

/Met with innovent. Shes on board. See yoi tonight./

James smiled and shook his head; Robbie had obviously been in a hurry. _Note to self: Turn on his autocorrect._

James wandered into the kitchen. He'd heard what he was waiting for and felt no real need to distract himself any longer. After a quick look through the fridge and pantry, he discarded his original plans for dinner. What he had in mind now required a shopping trip.

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Robbie arrived shortly before seven. Shrugging off his coat into James's waiting hands, he inhaled deeply.

"Oh, that smells good. You've been busy?"

"A little." James smiled.

James walked ahead of him into the kitchen and turned back with a glass of wine. He kept his hand outstretched.

"May I have your phone?"

Robbie started to remove the phone from his pocket, stopped and peered at James. "What for?" James lowered his hand.

"Did you read the message you sent me this morning?"

"I wrote it – I didn't have to read it." Robbie frowned.

James raised his eyebrows. With a muttered grumble, Robbie carefully tapped at the screen.

"I was in a hurry," he eventually mumbled.

James bit back a grin and held out his hand again.

"There." James passed the phone back. "That should prevent some of the simpler errors."

"I don't like that autocorrect thingy. It keeps trying to put in words I don't want." James cocked his head and waited. "It doesn't like Geordie, okay; took me twenty minutes to send a short reply to me brother because it kept wanting to change the words." James snorted loudly.

"Shall I serve dinner?" he offered as an apology. Robbie waved at him to 'get on with it'.

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James put on some music then sat down at the table where Robbie was already filling his plate.

"Roast beef with all the trimmings – James, I'm impressed." James smiled happily at the note of awe – and pride – in Robbie's voice.

"I felt like celebrating a little." He met Robbie's steady gaze.

"D'you cook like this often?"

"When I have a good reason – not as much as I'd like to, though; cooking like this for one feels pointless."

Robbie looked at him in a way that made his stomach flip, and James debated whether or not to ask him what he was thinking. Robbie looked away, towards the music, before he decided.

"Haven't heard this before," Robbie commented. "It's lovely. Who is it?"

James mentally shook himself. "Ennio Morricone. It's the soundtrack to _The Mission_. I found it down the back of the shelf when I was cleaning – completely forgot I had it."

Robbie nodded, and the moment had passed.

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James fidgeted in his seat. They'd finished eating, cleared away, and moved to the couch with the rest of the wine; Robbie had found an old movie on the telly and settled in. James's hip shoved in to Robbie's, drawing his attention.

"Innocent feels I should ensure you fully understand the National Police Promotion Framework, so there're no more 'surprises' down the track." He failed to keep a small grin off his face.

Robbie shot him a look of disbelief. "Does she think I'm stupid or something?" James shrugged and tried to keep his face as impassive as possible. Robbie sighed heavily. "Once you've done your exam an' passed – and if you're not marked 'exceptional' I'll be demanding they re-mark your paper – then it's Step Three, a selection process for the promotion pool; I'm sure Innocent's got your paperwork sitting in a drawer somewhere just waiting to be signed and dated. Then it's a matter of waiting for a vacancy and starting the assessment process, Step Four."

"Which is where our proposal comes in," James murmured.

"Aye, and why I withdrew my resignation."

"How _did_ that go, by the way? You've haven't said."

Robbie grunted. "They've been short-staffed, so the paperwork had barely progressed. It was simply a matter of Innocent writing an official memo, which I had to sign, and putting my file back where it belonged. Had I gone ahead and left when I was planning to, it would have been another six to eight weeks before everything was sorted – no pay and no pension."

"Maybe it was meant to be." James's voice was barely a whisper.

"Maybe." Robbie sighed again slipped and a little lower in the chair, his shoulder pressing against James's arm.

They watched the movie quietly for a time. James took a large mouthful of wine and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"We haven't put Innocent in an awkward position, have we?"

"In what way?" Robbie turned his upper body slightly towards him.

"What we asked for; how reasonable a request is it?"

Robbie raised his eyebrows and huffed. "You're asking that now?"

"You were so certain." James met his eyes. "I never thought to query it."

Robbie settled back against the couch, his eyes never leaving James. "I know it's been done before," he explained. "And can you think of another way that would keep everyone happy? It all depends how well Innocent can argue for 'extenuating circumstances'; after all, it's not a long-term proposal."

James thought about it for a moment and nodded.

"What else do I need to do now?"

"You just keep your attention on the exam. Mess it up and you'll have a lengthy wait for the next one, an' that'll throw a spanner in the works. You let me worry about whatever has to happen at work for now – plenty of time for you to deal with your side of things when you're an acting DI."

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* * *

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James spent the remainder of next two weeks alternating between studying and spending as much time with Lewis on evenings and weekends as Lewis – Robbie, he kept reminding himself – could spare; it wasn't as much time as James would have liked. James cooked dinner several times, and they gradually fell back into a rhythm of banter and comfortable silences.

But they also started doing something they had rarely given a lot of thought to in the past – talking and listening. So much of their history together had been based on trust, instinct and familiarity and, while it made them a formidable team, their reliance on it had nearly destroyed both of them. It wasn't a common occurrence; in fact, they had a total of two 'deep and meaningful' conversations during the lead up to James's exam, which had lasted all of ten minutes, if that.

The first had occurred the next time James had cooked dinner. Although Robbie hadn't been able to stay very late – he was headed out to Slough to talk to a potential suspect first thing in the morning – their brief conversation had taken an unexpected, though welcome, turn. A short time later, as James saw Robbie to the door, he decided there was no time like the present. He slipped his hand under Robbie's arm and partially around his waist – and held his breath. Robbie stilled and studied James's face. With a small nod he moved forward and hugged him, and the small tendril of doubt left James's body.

"I meant what I said, James," Robbie whispered. "Never be afraid of asking for a hug; you know what's appropriate and what's not, and I promise I'll not stop you, not without giving you a damn good reason."

James drew back slightly and looked at him, his eyes searching Robbie's face. With a small smile, James sank back into his embrace.

Because of work commitments, James didn't see Robbie again until several days later, though they kept in touch by text. When they did meet up, Robbie had decided he wanted to quiz James on some of the areas that had given him difficulty when he'd been preparing for his OSPRE; while it wasn't his first preference, James appreciated Robbie's willingness to give up some precious free time to do so. After two gruelling hours – James thought they'd been worse for Robbie than himself – they relaxed with more of the single malt Robbie had appreciated previously. Feeling mellow and safe, James had had some questions of his own.

Sinking down into the couch, the room slowly darkening as the sun set, James had leant against Robbie and exhaled slowly.

"What's your boundary?" James murmured.

"My – what? Oh, 'boundary'."

"Yeah. What _would_ make you push me away again."

He felt Robbie take in a deep breath and steadily push it out – then a second and a third. James sipped at his drink and matched his breathing to Robbie's. He startled when Robbie finally spoke.

"Anything... sexual." James never knew you could hear a blush, but it was there, as clear as if James was watching him. James didn't need Robbie to elaborate. "I can't go there, James – and I... I have thought about it – not even for you."

James nodded, though he was certain Robbie couldn't see him. "I understand," he whispered

"As for anything else... I don't know... I'm not sure." James felt Robbie move, and a hand lightly gripped his upper arm. "I won't push you away, but I'm trusting you to use your judgement, too."

James twisted awkwardly so he could see Robbie's face. He studied him for a moment, smiled softly and nodded.

They were small, but significant steps; the door was left ajar, and James felt confident that he need never completely hide his feelings away again.

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* * *

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On the Thursday before James was due to sit his exam, he was called into a meeting in Innocent's office. Arriving at the station, he was a little overwhelmed by the number of people who were, judging by their smiles, genuinely happy to see him; he furtively checked the zipper on his trousers. He met Julie in the hallway and watched her face brighten when she saw him.

He politely pulled her to one side. "Julie, is there something I should know about? Everyone keeps smiling at me and I'm beginning to feel like the punch line in a joke I'm not aware of."

"I think it's a bit simpler than that, Sarge." She giggled. "If you smile at someone, odds are they're going to smile back." She gently touched his elbow and continued on her way.

He laughed to himself and, with his mind set at ease, he didn't rush through the hallways as he might once have. By the time he reached Innocent's office he was feeling relaxed – and a little smug; he'd managed to elicit a sincere smile and warm greeting from Hooper.

"Sergeant Hathaway. Please go straight through. Chief Superintendent Innocent and Inspector Lewis are waiting for you."

The strong emphasis on 'waiting' caused him to school his face into a neutral mask. A glance at the clock showed him he was five minutes late – not a great amount, but four minutes more that Innocent would generally tolerate.

"James, so nice you could finally join us." Innocent gave him a wry smile. "Oh, don't look so worried, James. Sit down." She gestured towards an empty chair. Lewis glanced at him sideways and was biting back a grin.

"My apologies for dragging you in for what will be a very brief meeting; however, I felt it was significant enough to warrant telling you in person, together." She paused, her gaze shifting between them before she settled her attention on Lewis. "After some deliberation, the DCC and the Director of HR have agreed to your proposal – in principal; there's still some debate on the details and whether they can be accommodated and, if so, to what degree." She paused, turning her attention to James. "The one factor they are agreed on is that you, James, pass your OSPRE exam at the first attempt. Then the real fun starts. Odds are there's going to be significant pressure on both of you over the following twelve months, regardless of what their final decision is; are you sure you're up for it, Robbie?"

"Aye, I am." He fixed James with a stare. "And he knows he'll get no leeway from me, either."

James blinked several times before turning to Innocent. If asked, he would have said she looked like the cat that got the cream.

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* * *

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.

Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Lewis had booked a couple of days off so he could accompany James to his exam and, even though it was less than ninety minutes away, James had happily accepted Lewis's suggestion that they stay in Coventry the night before.

Knowing how loudly Lewis could snore, and wanting to ensure a good night's sleep, James had booked two rooms at a small hotel not too far from the exam venue. They'd driven up early and spent a relaxing afternoon walking around Coventry, where James gave Lewis a private guided tour of the cathedral. After a leisurely dinner, James had readily agreed that an early alcohol-free night was the wisest course, and Lewis had walked James to his room.

"I know I probably don't have to tell you..." Lewis had gently gripped James's elbow. "...but I'm going to anyway – try not to think about what comes after the exam; the logistics are out of our hands but, whatever's decided, they'll be for nought if you don't meet your end of the bargain. As for the exam itself, well, what you don't know you'll figure out quick enough. An' I'll be there when you're done so you can have a bit of a moan about the grammar an' what have you after."

James had laughed out loud. "Thank you, sir," he chortled.

He was caught by surprise when Robbie pulled him into a fierce hug, but happily sank into his embrace.

"I'm proud of you, lad – and it's Robbie, you daft sod."

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* * *

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.

It had been an exhausting week back at work – and he'd only worked a three-day week after returning to Oxford. Hours of staring at CCTV and security vision, coupled with interpreting Gurdip's cyberspeak, had had James's head reeling. He could only hope Robbie had fared better; he hadn't caught up with him since he'd dropped James at his flat on Tuesday morning and invited him to dinner the following Saturday.

"...to celebrate your exam being past. I thought I'd invite Laura and Innocent – as a sort of thank you for putting up with all the grief," he added quietly. "I'll cook us a proper meal, no takeaway or microwave stuff – don't look at me like that – I'm sure our Lyn'll have some tips."

James knocked on Robbie's door on the dot of six and, although he knew she'd be there, was a little surprised when Laura opened up instead.

"Come in, James. Robbie's hands are a bit full at the moment." She stepped back and he walked down the hallway.

"James." The nervous edge to Innocent's voice was more out of place than her presence in Robbie's kitchen. "Can you get the trivets or mats or anything before one of us drops a dish or brands the bench?"

James's easy familiarity with Robbie's kitchen soon saw fingers, dishes and the bench surfaces saved, and the table beautifully set.

He grinned as he surveyed the meal Robbie had prepared – a roast with all the trimmings. Laura and Jean were simply impressed that Robbie had achieved such a feat by himself; James saw a deeper connection and one look at Robbie's face confirmed he was right, that Robbie had carefully chosen this meal. It matched the one James had cooked, dish for dish.

Innocent braced her hands against the back of chair and surveyed the table. "Well, Robbie, what other hidden talents don't we know about?"

Robbie rubbed the back of his neck and tugged self-consciously at his ear. "Not talent, I'm afraid – our Lyn sent us an email, wrote out everything for me, including timings; I just followed her instructions."

"Oh, Robbie, you don't admit that," Laura teased. "It's a rare man who follows the instructions of a much younger woman to the letter."

Blushing, Robbie poured the wine and everyone sat down, except Innocent.

"A toast." She raised her glass. "To James, Oxfordshire constabulary's newest Acting Inspector – almost."

"To James."

James flushed scarlet. "I feel like a bit of a fraud at the moment – not that I don't appreciate your confidence in me – but the results won't be through..."

Innocent fixed him with a stare. "James, unless you're going to tell me you handed in blank paper, I think it's a safe bet to assume you've passed. And, with that knowledge, I intend to have everything in place so that the paperwork for Step Three can be submitted as soon as the results are posted, and you can formally commence Step Four. I assume you're still happy with the agreed arrangement?"

"Oh, Yes." James smiled warmly before a small frown creased his brow. "Though I'm still a bit vague on how..."

Innocent stopped him with a raised finger. "James, leave the details and the politics to me, the DCC, and HR. Now that Inspector Lewis – my apologies..." She bowed her head at Robbie. "...soon-to-be-Acting _Chief_ Inspector Lewis – has deferred his retirement, having him as your supervising officer until you attain full promotion really was the most logical move. Honestly, James, who else would understand you?"

James glanced at Innocent then Robbie, who had his eyes fixed on Innocent, his eyebrows raised in a query.

Laura stammered, "You did say acting _Chief _Inspector, didn't you?"

Jean's expression showed she was pleased with the response to her announcement. "Yes," she answered Laura, and turned towards James and Robbie.

"The DCC finally agreed with your accurate assessment that a DI couldn't reasonably be expected to take on the additional responsibilities involved in supervising an Acting DI – as James will be – through Step Four. Given your pending retirement at some point in the not too distant future, he also felt it was imperative that there be a new DI ready to take over when that day came – and he wants James. Therefore, despite some questions over the station's budget, your request to be considered for temporary promotion has been approved, pending James's results. Quite frankly, I was surprised they took so bloody long to reach the logical conclusion."

As Robbie and James looked at each other in relief, Laura cleared her throat to gain their attention. "I do believe another toast is in order." Her eyes sparkled with delight

"Did you know?" Robbie was looking at Laura curiously.

"No, not a word, I swear. Jean did mention she had some news for you; I assumed it was James's results."

"I wish," James huffed. "Six to eight weeks they said."

"It'll pass soon enough, James." Robbie squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

.

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.

After Laura and Jean left, Robbie and James relaxed on the couch.

After an evening with four voices raised in conversation, the flat was eerily quiet. Robbie had turned off the main lights and the yellow glow of the lamp filtered through the living area. James had taken his usual place on the couch, and Robbie sank down next to him. Drowsy from the large meal and mellow from the wine, his mind drifted back over long-distant peaceful nights. He began talking about the past, his voice soft and wistful.

"D'you know what I miss most about Val? The quiet times – like this – and being close, physically close. Not so much the sex, though that was always nice – but the small moments: hugs, touches, and... such. I'd hoped I'd find it again one day; I thought maybe it'd be with Laura, but there's too much water under that bridge. Certainly didn't expect to find it with another bloke, only to nearly lose it all again through being blind and stupid."

James laughed softly, a light, breathy noise. "I'd never expected to find it... except inside my head." He tilted his face back so he was looking at Robbie.

Recognising the trust in James's steady gaze, Robbie felt a stab of guilt for the hurt he'd caused him, and silently thanked Laura again for giving him a kick up the arse.

"What else do you miss?" James whispered.

"Hmm?"

"You said 'touches and such'; what's 'and such'?"

Robbie squirmed a little. "Val always gave me a kiss before I left for work, and when I got home – if she was there. It just made the day a bit... it gave me something to hold on to – does that make sense?"

James nodded but the look in his eyes was wariness. Robbie pursed his lips. "Aye, I know, that didn't work out so well for us, did it?" James stayed silent, his eyes fixed on Robbie's. "Tell me, James, what would make you happy? Honestly, all cards on the table, as we agreed."

James turned towards Robbie. "Can I show you, instead?" he asked shyly. Robbie nodded. "Can I do this?" He rested his head against Robbie's shoulder.

Robbie was puzzled. "Aye, you know you can."

James stood up and toed off his shoes, before curling up on the couch with his feet tucked to one side. His knees pressed against Robbie's thighs. Robbie watched him curiously. "What about this?" James wrapped his arms around Robbie's waist, slipping one arm under Robbie's, and settled his head back against Robbie's shoulder.

Robbie stilled, remembering his promise not to push James away. _It's just another hug_. He wrapped his arm around James's shoulder and pulled him in; James tucked his head down and Robbie settled back against the couch and closed his eyes.

They stayed there, still and quiet for a long moment. Robbie felt the slow rise and fall of James's back, and the warmth of his breath against his skin. _Damn, this is nice._ He rested his cheek against the top of James's head and sighed softly.

"What else?" Robbie murmured, his lips brushing against James hair.

James's voice was slightly muffled against Robbie's shirt. "This is enough – more than enough."

"Are you sure?"

"This is more than I realistically ever expected to have – with anyone."

"What about Fiona? And... before?"

James shrugged. "Fiona." It wasn't much more that a grunt. "I chose well there." His words dripped with sarcasm and Robbie felt him tense up. "A mistake. A lesson, if you will. Sometimes I think I was just a game to her." Robbie found himself slowly rubbing James's back, gently comforting him. It felt right.

"Don't you miss... you know?"

"Sex?" James suggested.

"Yeah. That."

"Not really." He chuckled softly. "Had I stayed in the seminary, I suspect the vow of celibacy would have been the least of my burdens."

James fell silent, and shifted in his arms, his head settling a little lower against his chest.

Robbie gazed at James's head nestled against him, and pushed against the heaviness that had settled in his chest. _Is this all James really wants?_ He felt like a fool as he recalled something Laura had said. _"Is it really so bad if he wants a touch or a hug every now and then, some assurance that someone cares about him."_ No, it wasn't; and, if Robbie was totally honest with himself, he needed it too. He hugged James a little closer.

A short time later, the steady rhythm of James's breathing told Robbie he'd fallen asleep. He closed his eyes, and softly pressed his lips against the top of James's head; James didn't stir. Robbie rested back against the couch, leaning his head back, and let himself drift off.

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* * *

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.

Being in two separate teams meant Robbie and James saw very little of each other, and they tried to catch up whenever possible. Innocent had made the decision to leave them in their new roles for now, more to provide stability to Julie and Peterson than to punish Robbie and James, she'd said, though Robbie was certain that was exactly what she wanted to do initially.

What shared free time they did have wasn't always spent together either; Robbie had explained to James that he felt a certain level of commitment to Julie off-duty, as he'd done with James when they first started working together. Fortunately for James, he'd discovered that, even though he was still a bit of a prat, Peterson was decent company once he gave him a chance. It gave him a far better alternative to sitting home alone. Laura had also come to the 'rescue' on several occasions for both of them.

James was also grateful that work had been steady, if not overly busy. He'd been able to keep his mind off his exam results for much of the time, and had checked the calendar in surprise when advised they were in.

He and Lewis met outside Innocent's office.

"Moment of reckoning, James."

"Thank you, sir, I wasn't feeling nervous at all," James muttered dryly.

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.

Innocent waved at them to sit down and silently handed James his results; her face was a mask. Robbie focused on James as his eyes darted across the page; he watched calmly as the lines on James's forehead smoothed out as the tension left his face, only to frown curiously at the hint of annoyance that appeared instead.

"Ninety-eight percent is far beyond an exceptional grade, James, and the best result ever for this station." Innocent was beaming now.

"Well done, lad." Lewis knew he couldn't have felt prouder if James had been his own son, but he wasn't going to say that. Instead, he found himself wondering about James's reaction. "But what's bothering you? Surely not the two percent?"

James looked up sheepishly and nodded imperceptibly.

Robbie scoffed in disbelief. "What was it – four, five questions out of 150?"

"Three." Robbie bit back a laugh at James's indignant tone and face; out of the corner of his eye, he could see Innocent had pressed her lips together tightly, two high spots of colour appearing on her cheeks.

She gave a small cough. "Any idea what tripped you up? Perfect scores aren't unheard of, but they are rare."

"Road Policing was the only subject area I didn't score one hundred percent in – probably amongst the ones relating to vehicle defects; I'm not the most mechanically-minded person."

"Never mind, lad," Lewis said kindly. "As long you don't have to repair your own car, you'll be fine."

James rolled his head sideways and back and gave him a look of disdain; the effect was somewhat spoiled by his soft, embarrassed snort.

Clearing her throat, Innocent called their attention back to her as she opened a file on the desk.

"I'm still waiting to hear back from HR on a couple of minor points. However, James, I can inform you that you'll be commencing Step Four in the first week of January. I would have preferred to start you immediately, unfortunately I don't have anyone to reassign to Peterson until then, and I've been informed that the official paperwork probably won't be processed before then, either. DC Lockhart – her appointment's been confirmed, by the way, Robbie – will be your bagman, unless you have any objections." She looked at him pointedly.

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.

James shook his head rapidly. "None, whatsoever, Ma'am." He clenched his hands together and forced them to lie still in his lap as he felt himself begin to tremble from the inside out – it was all suddenly very, very real; he took slow, deep breaths to settle his nerves.

He'd supervised other officers before, conducted performance reviews, been a mentor – none of this was new – but he'd always had Lewis to turn to whenever there had been any doubt. Though Lewis would be around for the entire year, James knew he'd be expected to trust his own abilities and leadership skills, and that Lewis would gradually fade into the background. By the end of the year, it wouldn't be unreasonable for Innocent to expect him to be guiding Julie toward her OSPRE.

Innocent cut through his thoughts. "Thank you, gentlemen; that's all." She dismissed them with a smile. James had no idea what she'd said before that.

As they walked into the corridor, Lewis tapped James's elbow.

"Come over to mine after you've finished up tonight?"

James could see the understanding in Lewis's eyes, and nodded gratefully.

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* * *

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James sank into the familiar comfort of Robbie's couch as Robbie passed him a mug of tea before joining him.

"James, the best advice I can give you is 'breathe'. It's so easy to get caught up in everything you suddenly think you're supposed to do, that you lose sight of the fact that no-one expects you to be infallible. Let's face it, you can be a bit of a perfectionist – let it go, man, or it'll bury you. You'll make mistakes, Julie will make mistakes, hell, _I'll_ make mistakes. But you'll get there in the end."

James exhaled heavily. "I don't want to let anyone down. I wasn't even sure I'd go through with this after..."

"That's all in the past, James." Robbie's arm swung across James's shoulders. James let his head fall softly against Robbie's shoulder.

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* * *

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Robbie stepped back from the scene of crime tape. He huddled against the solid trunk of a yew as he sheltered from the icy drizzle and surveyed the scene before him. At the far side of the cordoned-off riverbank, their victim was being prepared for transport, and James nodded to Laura as she packed up, before turning his full attention to Julie. Robbie recognised Julie's hesitation to speak in her body language, and James's encouragement for her to continue in his face. Robbie nodded approvingly as Julie raised her head higher and plunged on with her observations. Laura ducked under the tape and headed towards him.

Drawing level, she turned her head, looking back towards James.

"How's he going?" she asked softly.

"Five months in and you're only asking now?" There was no accusation in his voice.

"I've made my own observations, but I had hoped one of you would have kept me better informed," she scolded. "Something you've blatantly failed to do." Her voice was kind, the sting of her words lessened.

"It's been busy." Robbie knew it was a poor excuse, but he wasn't sure how to tell Laura that James hadn't wanted his progress to be a topic of general conversation without offending her. "You know James, does nothing by halves," he offered with a half-smile.

"I hope you're making sure he doesn't burn the candle at both ends." The worry in her voice was reflected in her eyes.

"His delegation skills have come along in leaps and bounds." He smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm keeping my eye on him, Laura. Don't worry."

Laura squeezed his arm, and fell into step behind her corpse. Robbie shivered inside his coat and walked back to his car – he'd seen all he needed to here today. He started the car and waited as the heater went to work on the numbness in his fingers. Laura tooted as she drove past and Robbie waved, silently thanking her once again; without her intervention he didn't want to think where he and James would be today. All he knew for certain was that he would have been miserable and broken.

Laura was still the only other person who knew what had transpired. While it didn't sit completely comfortably with him – Robbie wasn't a lover of secrets – he and James had chosen to exercise discretion for now; there was time to provide explanations after Robbie retired, limiting any potential impact on James's Step Four. They were too aware of how quickly an overheard comment could be twisted into damaging gossip. Robbie also knew there were further changes in the wind, and waiting until their situation was settled made sense.

Defining their relationship had proved challenging. Robbie knew he wasn't a father figure and that James had never been looking for that – nor did he really fill the role of a sibling or uncle. James had attempted to explain it by using CS Lewis's _The Four Loves_ – applying parts of the descriptions of affection, phileo, eros, and agape, to himself and Robbie. While Robbie grasped what James had told him, he felt it was a clumsy explanation, and one he couldn't imagine himself repeating.

Robbie had also considered and discarded the term bromance, which James had tentatively suggested. It wasn't that it _didn't _describe what they had – it was probably the most accurate word – it was simply because could never imagine himself comfortably using it. But if James wanted to use 'bromance' he wasn't going to stop him. For himself, he finally decided he was happy to leave it at 'best mates' – he knew what they had and that was what really mattered.

Lyn had also found their connection unusual and tricky to pin down.

Robbie hadn't seen Lyn since his last disastrous visit, and for a time their calls had been awkward and stiff; Robbie had had to work hard to restore his relationship with her. She'd begged him to tell her what had turned him into a completely different person that week, and wasn't ready to forgive or forget until he'd made some sense to her. He'd been reluctant to mention what happened with James – he couldn't see what good could come of it – and had eventually told her truthfully that he'd made a very poor error of judgement and, instead of dealing with it, had hidden away in Manchester.

"_You_ ran from a mistake? Dad, you've never done that – or if you have you've never admitted it – and you taught Mark and I not to do that." He'd been filled with shame again at Lyn's horrified disbelief.

Once that was out in the open, each successive call had become easier until they were back into a familiar pattern. Or so he thought; he hadn't been aware he'd been talking about James more until Lyn pointed it out.

"Dad, you'd mention him in your calls all the time – but it was always 'Hathaway'; now you really talk about him and it's 'James'. I think I've learnt more about him in the past few months than I have in all the time you've been working together." She'd paused at that point and taken a deep breath. "Is... was James connected to the mistake you made?" she'd asked cautiously.

"Yes," he'd finally admitted. "There was a... misunderstanding, and I over-reacted, to put it mildly. Then pride got in the way. But it's sorted now."

"Will we ever get to meet James?" The request had caught Robbie by surprise, but he had no problem with Lyn and James meeting – if James wanted to.

"I'll chat to James; d'you think you could handle a couple of house guests over Easter?"

It was more good luck than good planning that they'd both been able to take the Good Friday Bank Holiday for a three-day weekend. James had been reluctant at first, not wanting to intrude on a family occasion, until Robbie assured him that he certainly wouldn't be in the way. "It's hardly a birthday or Christmas, but it wouldn't matter if it was – I'd still want you there."

Robbie wasn't sure what he'd expected when they met; while they weren't completely chalk and cheese, he hoped they would find more than a little common ground. He couldn't have predicted how comfortably James would fit in, though, with Lyn's ability to put people at their ease, he realised he shouldn't have been that surprised. He knew Lyn had accepted James when she casually threw the tea-towel at him after dinner on their second night.

"Only guests get to sit on their backside and be waited on; those considered members of the family help around the house," she'd announced with a cheeky wink. James had blinked and broken into the brightest grin Robbie had ever seen.

With James and Tim cleaning up in the kitchen, Lyn had pulled Robbie into the living room while she fed the bairn. He knew his daughter well enough to know she wanted to talk to him privately and he waited quietly as she settled herself.

"I think Mark would be jealous of what you have with James; or rather, what James has with you. I'm not saying you treat James like a son – I get the feeling James wouldn't accept that, but… I'm not explaining myself well at all." She'd frowned and stared hard at him. "You have this... bond. It's things like the way you communicate without actually saying anything. It's a little freaky, but it's fun to watch. And you're so comfortable with each other; I can't begin to imagine what your falling-out was about, but I'm glad it's past." She'd looked at him thoughtfully, her face calm. "And – maybe this sounds a little silly – it's a comfort to me that you've got someone like James close by. At least I know one of you will be looking out for your best interests."

It was Lyn's observations that started Robbie thinking about the possibility of him and James sharing a flat when he eventually retired. He didn't want Lyn to have to worry about him – she had her own family to concern herself with – nor was he sold on the idea of moving to Manchester; Oxford was his home, and who was to say Lyn wouldn't move again. He was also very aware that, he left the force, his time with James would be limited and irregular. Being under the same roof wouldn't change James's work commitments, but it would increase the amount of time they did get to see each other, and he could look out for James. Most importantly, however, having discovered what he had in James, Robbie was not prepared to risk losing him again – not without a fight.

Of course, there was no guarantee that James would be prepared to live with a pensioner, but Robbie wouldn't know unless he asked, and he was hopeful.

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* * *

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James pushed himself away from the desk and looked around the darkened office. Julie had left several hours earlier, and Robbie had accompanied Innocent to another book launch. His eye caught the name plate on the open door: 'DI James Hathaway'. It wasn't official, not yet. He still had several more months of assessment to complete, but Innocent hadn't seen any value in a temporary plate when James was assured of the position, barring accident or death. It was planned that Robbie's retirement would be formalised the same day James was officially promoted.

Because that date depended on the speed at which the paperwork was processed, James knew that Robbie thought he was going to be able to slip away one afternoon and escape the fuss of a big retirement party. He didn't have the heart – nor the balls to go up against Laura – to tell him that Laura and Julie had several alternate plans that could be pulled together in the space of a couple of hours. He'd admired Julie's organisational abilities from their first days together, as Robbie had pointed out he would, though he was certain Robbie wouldn't entirely welcome them being used for his 'benefit'. James did hope he would appreciate the short speech he'd written. It only briefly acknowledged Robbie's years of service – Innocent had her speech ready for that; James's speech was his opportunity to publicly thank Robbie for all he'd taught him, and for giving him a place where he belonged, could be himself, and was valued simply as 'James'.

He glanced across to where Robbie's desk had been tucked into the corner. When building management had first said they could fit three workstations in their office he'd laughed, but they'd achieved it and it had worked well. However, in a few more months all traces of Robbie would be removed from this space and it would just be Julie and him, and he would be preparing Julie for her sergeant's OSPRE exam.

_Well._ He glanced back at this own desk and smiled fondly. _Not all traces._ In a small silver frame sat a photo of himself and Robbie, taken at the last Christmas party. Laura had taken the image and given them each a copy in a matching frame. They were sitting side-by-side on a pair of plastic chairs, arms folded across their chests, a pint glass in hand resting against an elbow, and their legs stretched out in front of them, crossed at the ankles. They were looking off in opposite directions, seemingly bored with the proceedings. They were also leaning against each other, pressed together at the shoulder and along their upper arms and body. And, if you looked closely, it wasn't boredom on their faces, it was contentment.

James focused on Robbie's face and reflected on what they had together. He and Robbie had rebuilt and improved their relationship, restoring the unity, balance and understanding they'd had before. When Robbie had revealed he was savouring the increased physical contact with James, that he'd found himself looking forward to their quiet moments, it had been a major turning point for both of them. True, it wasn't his perfect fantasy, but he was realistic – it was never going to be anything more than a fantasy – and he didn't need it anymore. Compared to where he'd been standing slightly less than a year ago, it was more, far more, than he had dared to hope for, and he was beyond thankful. For the first time since he was a child, he was genuinely, deeply happy.

He was still pinching himself after Robbie had raised the idea of getting a flat together once he'd retired.

"You want to...? Where did...?" James had been overwhelmed at the unexpected offer, certain he'd misheard and that Robbie simply wanted his help finding a new flat.

"With you a DI and me a pensioner, we'll hardly ever see each other; I don't want that. And someone has to make sure you don't work yourself into the ground," he'd groused. "You don't have to; it's just an idea I..."

"I... I'd really like that. I'd been wondering how we were going to... Do you think you could put up with me? All the time?" James had held his breath as he waited for Robbie to answer him.

"James," Robbie had growled kindly. "I'm quite possibly the only person who could. We're a mismatched pair in many ways, but we work, don't we?"

James had only been able to grin like an idiot.

At Robbie's prompting, James had already made casual enquires with the estate agent about breaking his lease. James knew they'd never share a bed, at least not by choice, but they shared almost everything else now. Each had made space in their wardrobe and bathroom cabinet for the other, and books and CDs were getting mixed up on shelves.

There was always the possibility they might grow apart with time, though James thought the chances were slim. However, barring any accidents to himself, James knew that one day he would find himself once again alone in the world; when that day came he would mourn and remember with love.

James shut down his computer and reached over to switch off the lamp. As he stood and shrugged his coat on, he looked down at the now darkened frame and smiled. In this moment, and all the moments yet to come, all that truly mattered to James was that he thought he'd lost Lewis forever, only to have his world turn full circle and discover he had Robbie.


End file.
